Lost Angels
by Whitelighter Enchantress
Summary: COMPLETE WITH EPILOGUE! A different take on 'The Telling.' Imagine it was Vaughn, not Sydney, who disappeared for two years... SV.
1. Two Years

LOST ANGELS  
by Whitelighter Enchantress  
  
Chapter 1: Two Years  


A/n: I hope this idea hasn't been covered before, but I'm really sorry if you've done it. I didn't copy you, honest!  
  
The rating I gave it is PG, which should be suitable throughout the whole fic (it's only for mild swearing). And I said Drama and Romance for the genre, but I guess it's got some Angst too. I'm going to start it when Vaughn was dropping Sydney off at her house just before the big fight scene. Enjoy...  
  
Disclaimer: JJ Abrams owns Alias, but I got my computer.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Vaughn reluctantly pulled away from an innocent kiss with his girlfriend, Sydney Bristow. She had, of course, been talking about work again. And a kiss was simply the only way that he could keep her from discussing it further. Then he remembered...  
  
So I did it, he said, as if she knew what he would be talking about.  
  
Did what? she asked in reply, exactly like he expected.  
  
I booked the hotel.  
  
No you didn't.  
  
Yes I did. _Why would I lie to you, Sydney?_ he thought._  
  
_You did? Was it so hard to believe? They worked, lived, and breathed the CIA. True, he hadn't taken a vacation since he started working there, and neither had she. Vaughn strongly believed they were quite overdue.  
  
  
  
Santa Barbara. She said it with signs of relief, happiness, and curiosity, allowing Vaughn to know that he had made the right choice in making the plans without her.  
  
Three nights starting tonight. I mean, it was probably the greatest phone call I ever made.  
  
Well, you're a genius.  
  
He leaned his head in and let his burning lips meet Sydney's. This kiss was no different than any other, but there was something Vaughn felt that wasn't quite right. He brushed off the feeling and pulled away from the kiss; the last kiss he would have for nearly two years. But he had to let go. Work had repeatedly controlled his life, and now it's cycle had started anew. So after the debrief I'll come and pick you up.  
  
  
  
Vaughn had never spoken such false words.  
  
Sydney slipped out of the car, and Vaughn watched her walk until she had shut the door to her apartment and was no longer in view. He sighed contentedly and pulled back out into the street. His content was swept away by a wave of sorrow as he remembered where he was driving to: debrief. Possibly the most boring thing in the world, but only because he wouldn't have Sydney to gawk at the entire time. He could stare at Sydney for hours on end and never once have the urge to look away. The way her brown hair curled slightly at the tips, her slender fingers, her warm chocolate eyes, the way her smile and laugh could light up the darkest room, how she was perfect in every way; Vaughn loved it all. This was exactly the reason he wanted to escape to Santa Barbara. He would wait for the perfect moment when they were down on the beach, and her eyes would meet his green ones, and he would tell her that he loved her. And, if everything went as planned, she would tell him the same thing.  
  
he hissed under his breath as a black SUV cut him off. He slammed on his breaks. Just then, out of the corner of his eye, headlights became closer and closer, he tried to pull out of the way, but the SUV in front of him would not move. Intense pain took over his body as the headlights and car collided with the side of Vaughn's car; the sound of smashing metal was enough to make him scream, let alone his newfound wounds.  
  
He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't even think. Was he bleeding? Probably. Did he brake anything? Most likely. But what was the strange sensation taking over his body? And then, everything went black...  
  
His head throbbed to no end. An infinite misery of quakes and shivers followed. He felt the stinging as his cuts and bruises brushed over the cool pavement. Pavement? _ I must have rolled out of the car_, he thought. He found it odd, however, that he did not remember doing so.  
  
He forced himself to painfully open his eyes, which immediately drew to the flashing lights in the distance. It's okay, it's just the ambulance, he told himself. But how could he have rolled that far away from his car? He tried to stand up, but failed in doing so, falling back hard on the ground. Noticing that he was in an alleyway, his eyes took better observations of the lights in the distance. It was city with neon signs. And where was his car? But better yet, where was he?  
  
Once more he tried standing, though more slowly. He found his balance point and took a few swaggering steps towards the lights, leaving the dark alleyway behind him. He was sure that he had been wearing a suit during the crash. Staring at the lights with more inquiry, he realized that they weren't in English. They were in Chinese.  
  
He moved as fast as his legs could carry him to a nearby phone booth and dialed for the CIA.  
  
a woman's voice said calmly.  
  
This is officer 2300708, calling for connection. Confirmation: looking glass, he replied, breathing heavily.  
  
Stand by.  
  
He looked around the city frantically before he heard, This is Kendall.  
  
Vaughn didn't know where to begin. I just woke up in Hong Kong. I don't know how long I've been here or how I go here. He closed his eyes. What could have happened to him? There was a long pause in which Kendall didn't speak.   
  
Get to our safehouse at Chwing Chausse Way as quickly as possible. You remember how to get there?  
  
Of course I do.  
  
I'll make sure they are expecting you.  
  
He hung up the phone, and began to massage his temples. His head felt like someone had stomped on it, hit it ten times with a sledgehammer, and then kicked it for extra fun. In fact, his entire body wreaked with this sort of torture. Leaning his head back against the phone booth, Vaughn allowed his body to slide down to the ground in a slump. He sat resting for a moment, knowing that a lot of walking would be ahead.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
He was pacing in his room again. That was all he could do. Pace and think. How long had he been at the safehouse... minutes, hours, days? He hadn't slept at all and it didn't matter. Only one thing was on his mind: what had happened that night of the crash? He replayed every action in his head. Starting with his last kiss with Sydney, and ending with blacking out. He could still not conclude how he got from Los Angeles to Hong Kong.  
  
_Okay, okay_, he said silently again. _I kissed Sydney good-bye and told her that I'd pick her up after debrief. I started driving to the CIA Joint Task Force Center, when somebody cut me off and another car crashed into mine. That's when I blacked out, and woke up here. But did I black out when I was still in the car? Dammit, I just can't remember. How long has it been since the crash? I'm sure I had a broken arm, or maybe I didn't. God, what about my weekend in Santa Barbara with Sydney? Sydney...  
  
_ Was Sydney hurt? Did she know about the crash, or even that he was in Hong Kong? He didn't want to think about the possibilities of any of the questions he asked himself. Suddenly he heard the door open behind him.  
  
It was Sydney. Sydney, thank God, he said, hurrying over to her and pulling her in for a close hug. She was all right. She was standing in front of him – alive and seemingly unharmed. What happened? How did I get here? How long have I been gone? I'm just so confused. No one will tell me anything.  
  
You... Sit down. He obeyed, but was skeptical. For some reason unbeknownst to him, she refused to meet his gaze. And this was Sydney Bristow, the woman who would look back at him any chance she could. Why wouldn't she now? She looked to the ground.  
  
  
  
We thought you were dead. They asked me to come back to... to explain.  
  
Thought he was dead? Come back to explain? Come back from what? What are you talking about? She was only raising more questions from him, and she knew it. She lifted her left hand to rub her eye; to make sure her welling tears would not fall. As she lifted her hand, Vaughn watched closely. Her perfect hand, which was so soft and comforting, was clouded by a ring. A single diamond ring. On her left ring finger. Sydney... why are you wearing that ring?  
  
Vaughn... since that night... you were missing. You've been missing for almost two years.  
  
His heart skipped two beats. Two years? Days, he expected, maybe even a few weeks at the most, but two years? And Sydney and the rest of them had declared him dead. So she had gone off and gotten married, or so he assumed. Maybe she was just engaged, maybe there was still time. The ring, Syd?  
  
She still wouldn't – still couldn't – meet his gaze. Really, it's not what you think.  
  
Not what I think!? he asked, raising his voice. Not what I think? he repeated, almost laughing at the absurdity of her answer. What am I supposed to think? It's a diamond ring on your left ring finger. I think I know what that means. God, it's only been two years, Syd, two years.  
  
Vaughn, I –  
  
How could you? I was only missing. Surely you couldn't have thought I was dead. I mean, there wasn't a body and –  
  
Vaughn, listen! she shouted, making sure she interrupted him and that he stopped. He stubbornly closed his mouth and crossed his arms. He thought by now she would stare him back in the eye, but no, she was looking right over his head. I'm not married, she added more softly.  
  
Are you...  
  
Engaged? No. Vaughn was confused, and a little regretful of the words he chose to say earlier. So it hadn't been what he thought. He looked back at her inquisitively, hoping she'd explain further. It's... it's a ring they found when they were going through your stuff, after you were missing. I hope that you don't mind that I took it...  
  
No, that's okay. I mean, I was probably going to give it to you eventually anyway.  
  
Her eyes took a sharp dart and finally met his gaze; a look to her that would usually make her go weak in the knees. She was frozen on the spot; speechless at first. If she wasn't careful she would allow herself to cry, something she couldn't do in front of him. Finally, Sydney's eyes blinked awkwardly and fluttered away from Vaughn's. I wear it because... because I like to be reminded that my guardian angel was watching out for me always. But now, I don't know what to think.  
  
No one could speak anymore. Vaughn couldn't. There was so much confusion; too much confusion for him to ask questions. But most of all, why was Sydney acting so strangely? That was the only question he could ask himself. He didn't care about his insomnia, or why his head still hurt every now and then, or how he had gotten to Hong Kong, or what happened to him during those two years. Vaughn's head began to ache more. She wasn't married or engaged. Kissing each other, holding each other, that was what they should be doing. Sitting and waiting for somebody to say something, was not.   
  
Vaughn winced as he noticed the steadily increasing pain in his head. He grunted as he grabbed the sides of his head. he managed to say before the pain was unbearable. Go... get someone...  
  
Oh my God, she said, hurrying to get up.  
  
Vaughn heard her walk out the door shouting for someone to come, but he couldn't hear anything clearly. He was quickly lying on his side on the ground, writhing in intense pain and agony. The last thing he saw was Sydney coming back in the door, but then everything went black again.  
  
  
  
A/n: Yeah, I used lines from the episode. The ones you recognize obviously aren't mine. Sorry if some of it is a little different (it's been a while since I've seen the actual episode). I hope I'm off to a good start...** PLEASE REVIEW!**  
~Whitelighter Enchantress


	2. Forever and All Eternity

Chapter 2: Forever and All Eternity  
  


A/n: Thanks so much for your reviews! I'm glad you all like it so far. It's super exciting... I've never gotten ten reviews in one chapter before.  
  
Disclaimer: Alias and Co. belong to a Mr. JJ Abrams. Not me. Don't sue, please.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
It was hard to open his eyes again. The light was almost blinding, but had more of a warmer feeling than the lights the last time he woke up. The cement he had been lying on had been much harder than what he was lying on now. Vaughn finally opened his eyes and took the pain anyway. It was only physical pain.  
  
When his eyes readjusted he was glad to discover (or more pleased than before) that he was not in an alleyway, but a hospital room. _ Hopefully another two years haven't passed by_, he thought bitterly. He almost jumped out of bed when he heard a nurse at his side. Excuse me, ma'am? he asked when his heart had stopped beating so rapidly, hoping she spoke English. From the looks of it, he was still in Hong Kong. She turned and looked at him. How long have I been here?  
  
Only few hour, she replied with a thick Chinese accent.  
  
And... And we're still in Hong Kong? She nodded in response. _Thank God_, Vaughn thought. He couldn't take any more surprises for today. But he knew he'd have to. Why did he black out so much all of a sudden? Once every two years was much more than normal to him. He had only passed out once in his whole life before the Two Year Incident: when he was in high school, and had been hit with a hockey puck in his head. His mother had been ragingly angry with him for not wearing a helmet. Now he was was passing out in cars, and in Chinese safehouses. It was a good thing his headache had seemed to cease.  
  
Meanwhile, the nurse had been checking out his stats at all the monitors he was hooked into. I tell Miss Bristow you are awake, she said, walking out the door. Just as she closed it, Vaughn noticed a small window in the door... Out of which Sydney was the only person visible. He tried to see her more clearly. It was obvious she had been crying from the dark mascara trails down her face. However, Vaughn still believed she was gorgeous. Especially with her long, brown hair resting against the side of her face (so that Vaughn could tuck it behind her ear), and with her body looking so warm and huggable. But she looked very vulnerable; something she rarely looked; something that worried Vaughn very much.  
  
Sydney was sitting by herself in what looked like a waiting room (Vaughn couldn't see much else out of his tiny window), biting her nails, tapping her foot nervously, and her eyes were settled on one spot on the floor, glazed over. All signs that worried Vaughn. The nurse finally made her way over to Sydney, but blocked Vaughn's view completely. When she soon moved away, Sydney's eyes were closed, and he noticed she took a heavy sigh. He hoped it was a sigh of relief.  
  
She soon stood up and was out of sight from Vaughn's window. Maybe her sigh hadn't been one of relief. Maybe she really didn't care about him anymore and just wanted to leave? Maybe...  
  
He didn't have to answer the last maybe as he watched Sydney Bristow walk through the door into his room, stopping at the foot of his bed. He wished she would say something to him. Anything. Or simply a hug. A kiss. He would even settle for a hand hold at this point. His lips were burning for her kiss; his skin trembled for her touch; his body ached for hers... He couldn't take the deafening silence any longer. Syd... What happened?  
  
Well, when I got back to the room you had passed out, and you've been unconscious for nearly three hours. She still refused to meet his gaze.  
  
No, I mean, you say I was gone for two years. I just... How? Why?  
  
She let out a shaky breath. What do you remember? _Why won't you look me in the eye, Sydney, why?  
  
_He cleared his throat. Um... I dropped you off at your place just before debrief. We were going to go to... to Santa Barbara afterwards. Now it was his turn to not look Sydney in the eye. Then, I think someone cut me off, then someone else ran into me. And I woke up in Hong Kong.  
  
A lot has happened since that night. Probably more than you expect. _Please, Sydney. Just one look would mean the world to me..._ But Kendall thinks it's wise if we wait until you get back home before we tell you anything. There's just too much...  
  
Of course there would be too much. Two years had passed, and a lot always happens in that period of time. He had known Sydney for almost two years, well, almost four now, but everything had changed in those two years he knew her. They were the best two years of his life. But why couldn't she just tell him now? Was there something so important that it had to wait until they were in L.A.? Maybe the hospital they were in wasn't safe to talk in. Perhaps Chinese enemies were spying on them at this very instant... Though he doubted it entirely. It was just Kendall being his old stubborn self.  
  
I... have to go talk to Kendall, Sydney said, slowly backing away, and quickly turning around. Vaughn didn't notice the almost falling tears welled in her eyes.   
  
Just as she left, the nurse and a new one entered the room. We're going to have to run one more test on you, Mr. Vaughn, she said, her accent much smoother then the other nurse.  
  
And then can I leave?  
  
Yes. It will take about an hour, though. The two nurses began to wheel Vaughn's bed out of the room and into the hallway. He looked anxiously to where Sydney was sitting before, only to find an empty waiting room. His eyes swiftly darted about the premises. There! She was in a hallway that was to the far right of his room. His view of her was shrinking as the nurses wheeled him farther away, and she was soon gone from his sight. The quick image he saw of her was plastered in his mind: she was talking on her cell phone. She looked angry, but Kendall could easily do that to you. She may have even fallen into a another fit of tears. But she was gorgeous.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
After Vaughn's test results had been completed, the first nurse told him that he be going home soon. He asked to know the results of his test, but the nurse told him nothing. Vaughn didn't even know what the test was for, let alone the tests that had been done on him while he was unconscious. He simply hoped that everything would be explained as soon as he returned to Los Angeles...  
  
Before he knew it he and Sydney were boarding a plane for home. Sydney had tried to freshen up by redoing her make-up, yet she could not cover up her sullen face and lost eyes. She said nothing to him, nor would she look in his general direction. How could she just stand there, when all Vaughn wanted to do was kiss her?  
  
For the first time, Vaughn felt angry about his ordeal. All he had felt so far was confusion, in an immense form. But now he wanted revenge on whoever had done this to him – whoever had taken him away from Sydney. If only they could have made it to Santa Barbara, then she would know that he loved her with all of his heart, body, and soul. She would know that he wanted her to be his and his alone. And if he was lucky, she would tell him the same thing.  
  
But mostly, she wouldn't be shutting him out right now.   
  
That was why he was mad. And he wanted to stay angry as long as he could, because he knew after the anger would come the pain. Pain of the most excruciating sort. It was something Vaughn wanted to avoid for as long as possible.  
  
So he decided while he allowed Sydney to take the window seat on the plane that if she was going to give him the silent treatment, that he would do the same. Except he wanted nothing more than to talk with her. Talk the way they used to, and not the way they talked in the safehouse or in the hospital room. He truly wanted to talk to her so badly. _Talk to me, Sydney, talk, please. And look at me. Straight in the eye; straight to my heart..._  
  
But no; she would not shift her gaze. Sydney was staring intently out the window, as if a solid vision of water and clouds would hold her interest for so many hours. Vaughn knew it was going to be the longest, loneliest flight of his life.  
  
Eventually Sydney had fallen asleep against the window. Vaughn didn't know how much time had passed. The minutes seemed to fly by, yet the hours were elongated. The water was still endless outside the window.  
  
He sighed, turning to look at the television screens that were showing a movie on the plane. Every screen that he saw was flat; one of many changes in technology he was sure. After a few minutes of watching the movie (or was it an hour?) he decided it must be a third Charlie's Angels movie. It wasn't something he could get into. He then heard a small groan escape from Sydney's throat as she readjusted herself in her sleep. He soon found her head resting on his shoulder, his lips mere centimeters away from hers. It was so tempting... But he wouldn't. He was still pretending to be mad at her, so he settled for a gentle kiss on the crown of her head.  
  
A soft, sweet kiss was all he would allow himself to give. Anything less and his lips would keep burning; anything more and she would wake. Vaughn couldn't wake her. If she woke up, then she wouldn't be nestled by his side, he wouldn't feel her warm breath on his arm, wouldn't be able to take in her luscious scent, couldn't stare at her perfect sleeping body infinitely. Of course, all of this would come to an end when she woke up. He prayed that she could stay forever like this – forever and all eternity.  
  
He sighed to himself and hoped sleep would find him as he leaned his head to the side on top of Sydney's. If she wouldn't speak to him in reality, perhaps she would in his dreams...  
  
Yet the sandman never came to visit. The long hours passed more easily with Sydney by his side, but he felt the pain beginning to set in. Though, remnants of anger still lingered every now and then.  
  
The plane soon landed in Los Angeles, much to Vaughn's dismay. Of course, he was eager to get information now that he was home, but that meant he would also have to wake Sydney. Why? Why would anyone want to do this to him? Make the pilot fly around in the air some more! He just wanted a little more time...  
  
Alas, no. The plane had stopped, ending all further fantasies with Sydney. It was time to face reality. It hit him hard in the face when he reluctantly shook Sydney's shoulder. Syd? We're in L.A., he whispered softly.  
  
she simply said in a flat tone. Once she realized she was pressed against Vaughn, she quickly pulled herself away to her window, leaving Vaughn's arm with a cold, stiff feeling. His arm was Sydney's security blanket, only to be outgrown and tossed aside. Or at least that was how it felt.  
  
Sydney never once spoke to him or even looked at him as they exited the plane. She didn't speak to him until they were out of the terminal, out of the lobby, out of the whole airport. They were just outside the parking lot when she turned to face him, but her eyes were still turned to the ground. There's a car waiting for you that will take you to a safehouse. In the morning another car will pick you up and take you to the Joint Task Center at nine A.M. Everything will be explained to you then. Vaughn closed his eyes for a moment. More waiting. Somehow he'd have to find a way to sleep. There was no way he could make it all the way through the night just sitting around a safehouse. And how was he supposed to know what car was going to pick him up anyway?  
  
He opened his eyes to ask her, only to find that Sydney was gone. All at once his feelings of confusion, anger, and pain came whirring through his body, taking him over and throwing him on the sidewalk; stomping on him and bashing his insides. Finally he had to sit down on the curb, and rest his head in his fists.  
  
Vaughn didn't bring his head back up until he heard a car horn honk loudly. I thought you were supposed to be dead! came a familiar voice from the car that honked. Eric Weiss emerged from behind the door.  
  
Vaughn said, standing up. You have to tell me something.  
  
Well, first things first. He shut the car door and hurried to grab Vaughn into a tight hug, where Vaughn had to struggle for air. For a moment he forgot that Sydney wasn't the only person who lost Vaughn for two years... There was Weiss, Dixon, Francie, Will, Marshall, Kendall if he cared, his mother... Everything hit him. He really was missing for two years. People really did think he was dead. Finally, Weiss let go. Two years, two years.  
  
It only feels like yesterday. God, what happened to me? _ Please, tell me something._  
  
Look, I'm not exactly sure. Kendall should have some information for you tomorrow though. He paused and looked at Vaughn in awe. I seriously can't believe it's you standing in front of me. I mean, two days ago, I thought you were dead. But now, here you are. Living and breathing right here. It's truly a miracle. Vaughn nodded solemnly. He really hadn't thought this through yet. There was so much to take into consideration. Two years? Two years. All right, ready to go, man? Weiss asked in his usual playful voice, as opposed to his shaky, serious one.  
  
He sat down into the car next to his friend without much thought. He barely noticed that Weiss kept taking quick glances at Vaughn, as if to make sure he was really there and still alive. Vaughn was too distracted to notice such petty things. It was Sydney that was on his mind. Why was she being so weird to him? Why wouldn't she talk to him? Why wouldn't she hug him, kiss him, or even touch him? But the question that Vaughn pondered most, was why wouldn't she look him in the eye? That was what hurt him the most. Weiss, how's Sydney been since... since my disappearance?  
  
I don't know if I should tell you anything...  
  
Please. Anything. I need to hear _something_.  
  
He heaved a heavy sigh. There was a car crash –  
  
I know that!  
  
Just let me tell the story. Vaughn quieted and leaned back in his seat. Okay, so there was this car crash. Most of us were in debrief when it happened. Dixon came in and told us you were in it. He drove me out there – I still don't get why Kendall let me go – but when I got there the paramedics said that you and the asshole who hit you were no where to be found. That was one crazy night. The morning was even worse...  
  
How so?  
  
Oh, you don't know about Francie and Will, do you?  
  
No, I told you, I don't know anything.  
  
Well, that same night, just after you dropped Sydney off... Weiss proceeded to tell Vaughn about Will being stabbed, Francie being the double, and Sydney fighting her to the death. Vaughn could hardly believe his ears. Francie was dead? But Will was okay. And Sydney... She was a wreck. They had to keep her in the hospital for the while. She's got some pretty nasty scars. And it didn't help matters that her boyfriend was missing.  
  
There was a short silence before Vaughn could bring himself to speak again. And... When did you declare me dead?  
  
I don't know. Maybe a year ago. It, uh, was a nice service. Weiss could sense Vaughn's next question before it was asked. No, there wasn't a body or anything. It was more of a memorial service to give people closure. He paused. It didn't really work.  
  
Did, uh, any of you guys think I was alive? Sydney should have.  
  
I told everyone I thought I thought you were dead. But there was still this voice in my head that kept saying you weren't. And Sydney. It was a couple months after your funeral when she finally accepted it. He wondered briefly if that was why she was being so distant – because he was still dead to her. But that didn't make much sense. There had to be some other reason why she wouldn't look at him...  
  
The car stopped in front of a small, brick house, and Vaughn realized he was at another safehouse. He didn't notice that the car had been moving, actually, feeling the potholes and jolts as his own tremblings. Yet he was still here, and he would have to wait for information until the morning. He slowly stepped out of the car and slammed the door shut. Weiss rolled down the window. Oh, thanks, Eric. See you tomorrow morning?  
  
Yeah, see you then. Weiss put the car in gear and drove a little ways before stopping, reversing, and stopping again in front of Vaughn. And, by the way, she's involved with someone.  
  
Who is?  
  
Then Weiss drove away for good in the darkness of the night, leaving Vaughn all alone as he walked into the safehouse. He didn't care about the other safehouses around him. He didn't care about who may be surveilling them. And he didn't care about the single tear that had escaped his strong eyes, for he could no longer feel.  
  
  
  
A/n: What do you think? Do you all still like it? I suppose it is quite a bit angsty, but it'll get better eventually. So now there's only one thing to do: **REVIEW!  
**~Whitelighter Enchantress


	3. Information At Last

Chapter 3: Information At Last  
  


A/n: Thanks for the reviews! Um, not much to say. Sorry if my chapters take a little longer to get posted, I've just started school up again this week. High school's not much different from middle school... There's just people form other grades in my classes now. With that said... Tally ho!  
  
Disclaimer: Oh JJ, can I have Alias please?  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
His mother had visited him that night. He was resting motionless on the couch when the knocking at the door came. It only felt like a few days since he last spoke to her, but of course, it had really been two years, and she was in a fit of hysterics. There was also a great deal of hugging, thanking God, and French ramblings. Vaughn's head had been rather lost through her visitation, and he wasn't sure what how long she had been with him or what she even said.  
  
But she did leave, and after an undefinable amount of time a car was picking him up to take him to work. He would finally get the information he was looking for, and perhaps, if he was lucky, a little more. _Perhaps_, about Sydney's mystery man...  
  
He sighed to himself while he sat in a familiar meeting room with agents old and new buzzing around him. Occasionally one would sit down at a table near him and shuffle through folders. Some agents, such as Dixon, Marshall, Weiss, etc., would give him a smile and a comforting glance. Other agents that Vaughn did not recognize would either completely ignore Vaughn's existence or give him a strange look. Finally Director Kendall entered the room and a silence was issued.  
  
It was suddenly brought to Vaughn's attention that Sydney wasn't present. He couldn't think of any reason why she wouldn't be. And then he remembered her words to him back in Hong Kong...  
  
_... They asked me to come back to... to explain..._  
  
Too bad she had barely explained anything to him at all. But come back from what? Had she left the CIA after Vaughn's disappearance? He prayed that she hadn't. Could something have happened to her while he was gone? He wouldn't think about it. He needed to see her face again today... Even if she was with someone else, he needed her. Though every time she crossed his mind a sharp twinge pained him, he was used to the pain right now. All Vaughn needed for his pain to cease was her, oddly enough. Just the sight of her, he knew, would fix everything. But no. She wasn't there. Might never be there...  
  
Almost two years ago, Kendall began, breaking Vaughn's sad outburst of thoughts, Agent Michael C. Vaughn was involved in a car accident and disappeared. Approximately seventy-two hours ago, Agent Vaughn was found in Hong Kong.  
  
Questions were quickly chattering away.  
  
How can that be?  
  
Wasn't he dead?  
  
Finally Kendall interrupted them all once again. Yes, we did declare him dead during his absence. However, we were incorrect. Vaughn had to keep from smirking. He knew Kendall hated to be wrong, and admitting that the CIA was incorrect was close enough to him. Kendall turned to Vaughn. It has come to my attention that you have no memory of the last two years.  
  
None, whatsoever, he replied firmly.  
  
Kendall nodded. Then I believe our first priority is to figure out what happened to you during your lost years. We'll start with hypnotic regression. Agent Dixon, if you would take him there now?  
  
Yes, sir.  
  
Vaughn frowned. He wanted information, not memories. Memories wouldn't tell him about Sydney. Yes, maybe they would tell him about where he had been taken. Yes, maybe they would tell him about who had taken him. But would they tell him anything and everything about Sydney? No. And that was what he wanted.  
  
Or was it? He was quite confused again, he quickly realized while he was walking down the humble halls of the CIA with Dixon. Vaughn really did want to know where he was and who had taken him. But did he want to know about Sydney more? He asked Dixon about the information first, not sure whether he should pry about Sydney.  
  
Just wait a little longer, he said with a sympathetic glint in his eye. Yes, that had been what everyone was telling him. When would it finally come?   
  
They soon found themselves in Dr. Virginia Kerr's office; the very same one that he watched Sydney and Will recall hidden memories. Not much had changed about Dr. Kerr over the two years Vaughn was missing. She still looked the same as she always did, and still had the same soothing voice.  
  
Vaughn was promptly hooked up to electrodes and machines and sitting in a stiff leather chair. Dr. Kerr finally spoke to him. Now, don't worry, Michael, this is very safe. The key is just to relax and stay concentrated. Are you ready? He nodded, closing his eyes. Okay, I'm going to count backwards from three. When I get to one, I want you to tell me where you are. Three... Two... One...  
  
Vaughn slowly opened his eyes to find himself in another strange setting. For a moment he thought he may have passed out again, but soon remembered his hypnotic regression. He had no idea where on earth he possibly be, but his body was throbbing in pain. It was almost as bad as his last headache. Vaughn tried to sit up, but found he was strapped to a hospital-like bed. The thick leather straps were bound tightly round his wrists, legs, and torso, cutting into his skin at times. Among his other injuries were cuts and bruises scattered about his usually smooth skin. Wanting to scratch his nose, he tried to rub it to his shoulder, only to find that he couldn't, furrowing his brow in frustration. The furrowing led to the discovery of a a gauze bandage wrapped around his head, which was beginning to hurt. I'm not sure where I am... But it hurts...  
  
You're okay, Michael, it's just a memory. _Just a memory_, he told himself, _nothing is hurting me, nothing _can_ hurt me_. The pain was subsiding, excluding his headache, which must have been forming in reality as well as his state of mind.  
  
Ah, I see your awake, Agent Vaughn, came a detectable voice. Yet it wasn't in reality that he heard this voice, but in the memory. And it belonged to the crooked traitor, Arvin Sloane. Vaughn quickly saw him appear out of a doorway to his right.  
  
Where am I? memory-Vaughn asked groggily.  
  
Sloane smiled slyly, taking a small step closer to Vaughn's bed. I've taken you to a location in the south of Spain –  
  
Well, I demand you take me back to L.A. Memory-Vaughn was becoming stronger, real Vaughn could tell. His fists were now clenched, letting the leather strap tighten on his already slitting wrists.  
  
Sloane simply laughed in response. Well, we _were_ going to return you due to our mistake... However we've decided you'll be very useful. Vaughn heard the click of a doorknob and Irina Derevko followed in entering the room.   
  
But for now, Irina said, pulling out a long needle from behind her back, you should go back to sleep. Her cold brown eyes twinkled with delight as she injected the needle into Vaughn's arm, taking great pleasure in watching Vaughn suffer.   
  
Vaughn closed his eyes tightly and swallowed the pain, only to open his eyes and find himself back in the present. He was breathing heavily, but his body seemed to be in no more pain, other than his headache. He ignored the headache, looking directly at Dr. Kerr. Mistake? What mistake did they make?  
  
Dr. Kerr and Dixon exchanged glances, but Dr. Kerr said, Everything will be explained to you in a moment. She began to remove the electrodes form Vaughn's head. More waiting for Vaughn. He wished he could go back and make Sydney tell him everything back in Hong Kong. Better yet, he wished he had never had to be in Hong Kong in the first place. There were so many things that he wished, yet none of them were attainable. Except for one... If he was willing to try hard enough and pursue. He knew deep down in his heart and soul that he was. He wanted Sydney, and that was what he would get.  
  
Dixon led him to a small office with only a table and two chairs. Vaughn sat down across from Dixon and crossed his arms stubbornly. Are you finally going to explain everything now?  
  
Yes. Let's start with the night you disappeared.   
  
Vaughn's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't actually believed they would tell him everything _now_. His brain immediately filled with billions of questions all at once; each swimming about his brain in a confused jumble. Yet his mouth remained speechless. He finally concentrated hard and let the words flow out of his mouth. Eric Weiss already told me about Francie and Will. And Sydney being hurt.  
  
I see. He paused for a moment, looking briefly at his hands, as if he wasn't now sure where to begin. Apparently you were purposely hit by one of Sloane's associates –  
  
But it was a mistake?  
  
Yes. They... They wanted Sydney.  
  
Sydney! But how do you know? More questions arose, slowly bringing on more headache.  
  
Please, just let me explain, he said, followed by a sigh. Sydney was willing to do just about anything to find you. She actually tried to leave the hospital before they wanted to released her, but she collapsed before she could get away. She almost – well, never mind what she almost did. He scratched his head. A little while after she got back home, she was gung-ho on missions to find you. We finally got intel of your possible whereabouts and we went. But Syd went her own way, and she found this man who said he had info on you... No one's clear on what happened to her, or how it happened, but she was somehow tortured for information. No one really knows how she got out alive.  
  
But no one knows exactly what happened?  
  
She refuses to talk about it.   
  
The two men let a short silence issue itself, only interrupted by their own breathing. Vaughn's questions were growing by the minute, and very few answers were coming to him. What had happened to Sydney? He thought for a moment about her recent behavior. Was she angry with him because she was tortured; did she feel it was his fault? He couldn't understand how she would feel that way, but there was still no logical explanation for anything. Did you finally give up the search for me?  
  
We stopped hearing news of your existence. The CIA just assumed you were dead, he shrugged.  
  
But why did Sloane keep me? You just said that he wanted Sydney... And how do you know he wanted Sydney anyway?  
  
Irina Derevko contacted Director Jack Bristow. She told him that they meant to take her. Dixon knew Vaughn would contradict this statement.  
  
And that's reason enough, Vaughn, sure enough, scoffed.  
  
Dixon nodded. We still have little idea of what they used you for. Vaughn sighed, leaning back in his chair. He rubbed his hand down his face and let the new information run over in his mind. Still nothing was making sense, and he only had more questions to ask. _But what about Sydney?_ he wondered. H_ow can we trust Irina Derevko? Why did Sloane put me back alive?_ His mind would not focus on on track. It continued to jump from question to question repeatedly until he heard Dixon's deep voice clouding over his thinking. I'm sorry we've sold your apartment and most of your furniture. You're remaining possessions are in storage and...  
  
And where, Dixon?  
  
And... at Sydney's. An awkward pause slipped between them. It shouldn't have been awkward, yet it was in many ways. Why was it odd that Sydney had some of his stuff? Vaughn didn't care. He was glad that she had it. Now he had an excuse to go see her... She also has Donovan, he added softly. He cleared his throat before speaking again. Uh, you get to stay at the safehouse until you find a place of your own, get your furniture, you know, back on your feet. We'll issue you a car and see if we might be able to get yours back.  
  
He nodded, rubbing his temples. Oh, what were the tests they ran on me at the hospital in Hong Kong?  
  
I'm not sure what they did exactly, but they showed that you have slight brain damage. But very, very, slight. It's just the memory loss. They think you may have been brainwashed.  
  
Brainwashed. Great. Could his life get anymore like a soap opera? Thanks, Dixon. Wait, uh, before you go... Could you tell me what's up with Sydney? She said she came back from something to talk to me. Did she leave the CIA? He hoped very badly that she just wasn't at work today.  
  
I really shouldn't be the one telling you about her, but no, she hasn't left the CIA. She's just taken an extended... leave. She needed a break, you know, after all these years. Dixon paused for a moment, making sure he had just spoken the right choice of words. He then informed Vaughn that he should find Jack Bristow for his car keys before he left. Just as Vaughn was heading for the door, Dixon added, And Agent Vaughn, it's good to have you back.  
  
Vaughn nodded his head in acknowledgment and headed forth through the halls of the Joint Task center in search of Director Jack Bristow. He knew it would take him too long to find him if he was looking directly for him, so he decided to wander around and see what had changed. The main idea of his excursion, or what he wanted to believe, was to clear his head of all the questions he had and to just relax and ease into his new life. _ This won't work_, he thought, but it sure was worth a try.  
  
Absent-mindedly, he had strolled himself into the prison ward: the hall where Irina Derevko used to be confined. He slowly walked past each cell until he reached the last one; which he assumed would be empty with Irina Derevko still absent. Or could they have caught her again? He was quite shocked to find that someone else was occupying it, however, not Irina Derevko. It was Mr. Sark...  
  
Vaughn found him sleeping. He chuckled quietly to himself, shaking his head, knowing that Sark fully got what he deserved. Not wanting Sark to wake and find Vaughn standing at his cell – he'd rather not confront Sark yet – he turned and walked out after the barred gates. He turned his head back for one last glance, and felt his body smack into another's. It was Jack Bristow's.  
  
Oh! I'm sorry, sir. Actually, I was just looking for you, Vaughn said, hoping his former girlfriend's father wasn't angry with him.  
  
Yes. You want your car keys, I suppose. Follow me.   
  
Vaughn sighed to himself and did what Jack told him. They meandered through a few halls before stopping in Jack's office. He opened a drawer from his desk and pulled out a set of keys, tossing them to Vaughn. He realized that Jack was giving him a sympathetic stare. Jack Bristow, the man with no emotion, giving him sympathy? Though Vaughn couldn't be sure if it was sympathy he was showing, considering it was strange to be seeing _any_ expression from this man at all. He also noticed that Jack had turned down a picture frame on his desk. I_t must be of Sydney_, Vaughn thought, _because that only makes sense. He's giving me a sympathy look, and not wanting me to see Sydney. Okay. That makes sense, I guess, but why? _ The question he had been asking since he was found in Hong Kong.  
  
But Vaughn couldn't resist pumping Jack for more information if he could. Does, uh, does Sydney still live in that apartment with Will? Jack nodded faintly. Vaughn wondered if it was Will she was involved with... But no. He highly doubted that was the case. He knew she didn't feel that way about Will. But who was the mystery man she was dating then? Before I leave, I just want to know one more thing. What is Sydney's boyfriend's name?  
  
Jack looked hesitant before saying, Corey Peterson.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
_So much has happened, and I've been gone so long. I don't know who anybody is anymore. All I can do is sit here in this safehouse – alone, no less – and wait for any new information that they probably won't tell me. I don't know much, and most of what I know is from extensive research on the internet, radio, and television. But here it is:  
  
My name is Michael Christopher Vaughn. The year is 2005. It is March. The Kings look like they have a chance at the Stanley Cup this year. The President of the United States is not George Bush. Yet somehow Arnold Schwarzenegger is the Governor of California. They lied once again, and Friends is still on the air. Some woman named Claire Darby just won American Idol 4. The new band is called Black tea. Francie Calfo is dead. Will Tippin is alive. I don't have a place to live. I don't have my car. I may not even have any money. But I most certainly do not have one thing – Sydney Bristow, the love of my life._  
  
  
  
A/n: **REVIEW, PLEASE! ** Sorry if some of the stuff that happened to Vaughn is confusing. I'm writing it and I think it is... But please **review**! Constructive criticism is always welcome too.  
  
And just for clearing things up: I just think it would be funny of Arnold Schwarzenegger won, Friends is probably really in it's last season this year, I have *no* idea who will win American Idol 4, and Black tea is a real band.  
~Whitelighter Enchantress


	4. A Shadow for a Shimmer

Chapter 4: A Shadow for a Shimmer  
  


A/n: All right, this chapter is, like, the whole reason I wanted to write this fic. Sort of. I hope you all enjoy! And muchas gracias for your reviews.  
  
Disclaimer: Yeah yeah, we know it's not really mine. Except for a certain _new_ person...  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
The door to the storage garage screeched as Vaughn and Weiss lifted it open. He coughed as clouds of dust misted out through the gap, filling his lungs in painful gasps. Finally when the coughing fit subsided, he took a thorough look around.  
  
Well, here it is. Everything we didn't sell. Er, most of it, Eric Weiss said, also surveying the area. Dang, it's been a long time since I've seen some of this stuff. Look at that couch! Remember that weekend when I was house-sitting for you? I had this girl over... Oh, that couch.  
  
You didn't have a girl over.  
  
Okay... So I had Donovan. Him growling at me can count, though, right?  
  
Vaughn chuckled at his friend. Even in the two years he was missing, Weiss hadn't changed a bit. He still loved showing off magic tricks and he still couldn't get a date if his life depended on it. Vaughn was slowly beginning to catch up with each of his friends. Most of them had stayed almost exactly as he remembered them all. Marshall's mouth was still faster than his mind, but he had married Carrie Bowman. Dixon was the same trustworthy, save-your-ass-in-the-nick-of-time friend, and he was doing well as a single parent. Yet Vaughn had yet to see Sydney. It had been days since he last saw her in the airport. He was dying to see her angelic face, hear her sweet voice, touch her soft skin...  
  
Not much had happened since his first hypnotic regression. There had been no new information – at least none that Vaughn knew of – and he hadn't started looking for a place to live yet. He didn't want to. He felt that if he found a new place to live it would mean he was really starting over; creating a new life without Sydney. And that was something he never imagined he would do. In fact, his life greatly resembled a soap opera. A crazy plot, where everyone talks and talks. It feels like there's no real substance, but the worst part is, you can't control the characters.  
  
Look at that box! Remember when I had that date that –  
  
You never had a date, Eric.  
  
I know, he sighed. I was just hoping you would have forgotten. You know, cause you were gone for so long. Never mind, it wasn't working. Oh, there's a deck of cards in this box. Want to see a card trick?  
  
Not really, Eric, it's not the time. Vaughn had just sighted his bed frame and mattress; something he was surprised to see still around. There were many great memories with Sydney on that mattress... Sydney. Why did everything have to remind him of Sydney? He loved to think of her, but he hated how her memory made him think of Corey Peterson; a person he now hated for stealing his love. He was already ruining everything and Vaughn had never met him. A perfect image of Sydney would settle in Vaughn's mind, only to be overpowered by a shadow of Corey. Vaughn could only imagine what he actually look liked. For some reason Vaughn thought Corey would be the pretty boy from your high school, the star quarterback of the football team, homecoming king, with his curly blonde hair waving in the wind... Vaughn knew he had too much time on his hands. Finally he asked Weiss what Corey looked like.  
  
Corey? He's... Um... His hair is blonde and uh, he's tall? Maybe. I can't remember.  
  
Thanks. _That_ helps a lot.  
  
What? It's not like I stare intently at him. I don't even see him that often.  
  
Vaughn nodded. All right, I didn't really expect to have this much of my stuff here. But that helps, I mean, I won't have to buy that much when I actually get my own place.  
  
My advice: Stay in the safehouse as long as possible. Those things are nice. And you have a jacuzzi tub.   
  
Do I ever take your advice? Weiss shook his head, somewhat proudly. Now that I know what I have here, I want to know what Sydney has... He already knew she had his grandmother's ring and his dog. It was really just an excuse to go over to her house... He was dying to see her. Desperateness was taking over. If he went over to her house, then he could see what she had of his, get his dog back, _and_ see Sydney. A decision had been made. We should go and see what stuff Sydney has.  
  
Whoa, maybe we should eat first.  
  
Haven't changed a bit – always thinking of your stomach! Weiss shrugged. What ever happened to Francie's restaurant?  
  
After Francie died, or her double, Will took over the restaurant. It's very successful. Syd helps him out there now and then.  
  
Then that's where we should go, he stated, his eyes filled with determination. He hoped that he might just see Sydney there, and if not, he could at least talk to Will.   
  
All through the car ride, he could only think about what he'd say to Sydney. He wanted their conversation to go perfectly, not that he completely expected that it would. First, he would say, Sydney, we need to talk. She would refuse to meet his gaze, then deny the need to speak. He would reply with, Syd, I know about Corey. This would force her meet his gaze (at least he believed it should), and then... He wasn't sure what would happen next. How would she react? Would she utter a simple, or would she ramble an explanation? It didn't matter what she said next; Vaughn would lean in and kiss her; kiss her like he'd never kissed her before; kiss her so hard that she'd collapse in his arms. He would carry her off into the sunset and she would be all his for all time...  
  
Eric screeched the car to a stop. Sorry about that, he mumbled. Vaughn shook his head from his daydream. What was he thinking? Of course Sydney would never comply with his wishes. He sighed. Two years ago, Vaughn thought he and Sydney would be living happily ever after by now. But Sloane had to screw things up and throw deep potholes into the mix.  
  
Once they were parked, both Eric and Vaughn stepped out of the car. Vaughn noticed that the restaurant had barely changed from the outside, and realized after walking inside that it hadn't changed either. The only difference he saw was a special wall dedicated to Francie, with her picture in a deep auburn frame, a plaque, and many flowers.   
  
They were soon seated and had ordered they're food. Vaughn pretended to listen to Weiss's pointless stories while he scoped the area for Sydney or Will. He found neither.  
  
It wasn't until Vaughn was picking at the remainder of his dinner when he looked towards the bar. Weiss was still telling stories, though this time Vaughn caught something about Marshall's bachelor party. Vaughn allowed his eyes to wander lazily across the bar. A few men in dressed in suits sat with each other, all laughing and buying more rounds. His eyes soon settled on a woman in a red sweater talking to the bartender, who reminded Vaughn of a younger, bald Dixon. But for some reason his attention was captured by the woman with the red sweater. Her sleek brown hair was hanging just below her shoulders in a way that made Vaughn want to touch it. She began to laugh, and turned so Vaughn could see her face better.  
  
It was Sydney.  
  
Vaughn was suddenly aware why his attention was all hers. It became hard to breathe. Every ounce of oxygen was trapped in his lungs; his heartbeat pounded in his chest. He couldn't move. Vaughn wanted with all his might to go talk to her, yet he was motionless in his seat.  
  
She was absolutely gorgeous, and she was within a football field's distance. Why couldn't he move!? Weiss didn't even notice Vaughn's struggle; he simply continued to talk. But Vaughn couldn't hear what Weiss was saying. Sydney was talking casually with the bartender. By the looks of it, no flirting, and no drinking. But she was only saying hello to him. Vaughn quickly found her walking into the lobby, and she was almost around the corner. If he didn't move soon, he may never see her again.  
  
So the stripper takes out her handcuffs and –  
  
Excuse me a minute, Eric, he mouthed hastily, standing up and running into the lobby. he called. She turned around immediately at the sound of her name, not recognizing Vaughn's voice. Syd, I was wondering –  
  
Vaughn!? What are you doing here? her eyes narrowed instinctively to his, but darted down to the ground after brief hesitation.  
  
He was taken aback by her reaction. Her voice said that she was surprised and confused, but her eyes were screaming with joy. Yay, Vaughn! they called. He straightened his shoulders, finding new confidence in himself. Eating dinner... But your dad told me that you had some of my stuff. I _was_ going to swing by later and –  
  
No, that's okay, swinging by won't be necessary, she argued back too fast, shooting a glance into his penetrating green eyes.  
  
The proximity was unbearable to Vaughn. How could she be so resistant? She didn't move, her breathing seemed normal, and he was almost positive that is he felt her heart beating against his chest that it would be a normal rate. But as the silence between them slowly grew, Sydney didn't back away from him. She stayed, sparking a shimmer of hope inside of him. Soon the silence was deafening despite the background rustling of restaurant customers. He had to ask the question he knew they were both attempting to dodge. Why are you avoiding me, Syd?  
  
Excuse me?  
  
I haven't seen you since the airport, and that night in Hong Kong. And we barely talked then.  
  
What's our point?  
  
_What's my point? What's my point!?_ Syd, if I haven't kissed you in two years, we're long overdue. He wanted to step in. He wanted her to look him in the eye. He wanted her lips to crash into his. Yet instead her eyes fluttered to the floor and she slowly backed away.  
  
she began, while he hoped she would say something that he wanted her hear, ... should give you your ring back. He looked at her hand. She still bore his ring! His shimmer of hope was erupting inside of him.  
  
No, that's okay. I want you to keep it. I already told you I was going to give it to you anyhow. _She still has my ring!_ he sang to himself. It took all his strength to keep from smiling. But why did she look so skeptical?  
  
Dammit, Vaughn, you're making this really hard for me.  
  
Hard for you? Hard for _you_? Of course the hope was too good to be true. The good things never lasted in his life. You aren't the one who lost two years of his life for God knows what reasons to the most evil man in all the world. You aren't the one who sits alone in a safehouse and wonders where the hell his life is going to go. You aren't the one who was brainwashed or whatever. But you are the one living it up with your best friend and boyfriend.  
  
So this is about Corey?  
  
No. This is about you and me. And where we stand. It was as simple as that; he knew it and she knew it. But whether they knew the answer was unpredictable.  
  
She paused, drawing in a deep breath before meeting his gaze – much to Vaughn's pleasure. I don't know, she whispered. His eyes were beginning to take her over, a power Vaughn could always obtain. She was falling prey to him; she would lose complete control; her knees would weaken and her body would beckon for whatever he needed. But over the years she had developed a resistance...  
  
Okay. Then this _is_ about Corey. Soon he was the uncontrollable one. All of his anger sifted out and pulled forth into the void of angry energy. Everything he had been angry about over the last week escaped, and he was taking it out on Sydney. It was something he couldn't contain; something he would have had to do eventually, no matter who he was taking it out on. But it had to be Sydney of all people. How long have you been seeing him, Syd? Are you two serious? Is he better than me?  
  
Vaughn, please stop. It's not like that...  
  
But it wasn't something that could be stopped. It was a tumultuous force in which was unquenchable. He wanted to stop himself, he really did, yet nature had stepped in and replaced his usual self with a cold person, an anger filled person. Did you two ever spend the weekend in Santa Barbara? Huh, Syd?  
  
That's it! she shouted, and Vaughn knew he had taken it too far. She didn't understand that he couldn't repress what he said, nor did she fully understand where all his bottled up anger sourced. But she did understand Santa Barbara, and the symbolism behind it. But he couldn't take back what he said, and now he would have to face the repercussions. You can have your ring back, Michael Vaughn. I don't need it anymore. Because I lost my guardian angel. She lifted her hands together, and swiftly ripped the diamond off her finger and whipped it at Vaughn's chest.   
  
She stormed out of the restaurant while Vaughn fingered the ring, slowly placing it in his pants pocket. He looked to the spot on the floor where Sydney was standing only moments ago. The moments when he still had a shimmer of hope; when she was wearing his ring; when they were having a (somewhat) civilized conversation. But he had ruined it with his daydreams. Why did he bring up the subject of Corey when he knew she wouldn't react like his daydreams? He couldn't even look at her as she pulled his ring from her delicate finger and ran out the door. Had he looked at her, however, he would have seen her tears and the sadness and regret in her eyes.  
  
But the shimmer had pulled Vaughn into a shadow of angst.  
  
In a daze, he returned to the table where Weiss was waiting impatiently. Vaughn sat down without thought and buried his face in his hands.  
  
What was that all about? Are you okay? Weiss asked immediately.  
  
he hissed, and I... Are officially over. The statement resounded in his head with an agonizing bite. Through it all, his normal thought process wearily returned. Could you tell me about her relationship with Corey?  
  
Are you sure, because –  
  
Yeah, I'm sure, he said, gripping the tablecloth in his fist.  
  
Weiss sighed. Well, I guess they've been dating for seven or eight months now. I think they met here. Maybe Will introduced them. I can't remember. But I know he helped her a lot. She wouldn't talk to anyone about anything. We were all worried that she was bottling up everything inside. It was a little relieving to know that finally she could talk to someone.  
  
... Are they serious?  
  
He wobbled his head.   
  
How serious?  
  
Pretty serious? I don't know. Weiss raised his eyebrows.  
  
Vaughn let go of the tablecloth. He closed his eyes for a moment before saying, I'm ready to go back to the safehouse now. He needed to get away from everything here. He couldn't even remember why he wanted to come here in the first place. Everything was one big blur; one concoction of confusion and mixture of mayhem. And all he wanted to do was forget everything.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
The following Monday at work was not an ordinary day. Vaughn sat at his new desk, waiting for his hypnotic regression appointment. His elbows rested on top of many ignored papers while his head lazily fell into his palms. It was a slow day. Again. There was no urgency in anyone's walk, nor was there the excitement in the atmosphere of receiving fresh intel.  
  
And all he could think about was the fight he had with Sydney. He played the moment over and over again in his head, analyzing every movement, and sound. He cherished the second of eye contact, and despised the uncontrollable anger he possessed. Vaughn knew his suppressed anger would erupt from him eventually, however he never thought it would be taken out on Sydney. Deep regret washed over him like a wave upon the shore, the tide sweeping up old memories of when he and Sydney were happy.  
  
Checking his watch, he realized that he was late for his appointment. He hurried up from his chair and started down the hallway. He passed Marshall typing away at his computer and Dixon reading something off the screen. He passed Weiss discussing something with Carrie Flinkman. He passed Jack Bristow in the hallway (with an odd sense that he was giving Vaughn another sympathetic stare). He passed Director Kendall talking at the corner with a woman. He passed Director Kendall talking at the corner with _Sydney. _   
  
He almost tripped. It was Sydney. Here. At work? She must have returned. This morning? That was the only explanation. She took no notice of Vaughn, somewhat to his relief. He had started to speed walk awkwardly away, and the sight of him moving looked rather peculiar. As soon as she was out of sight he leaned against the wall to pause and breathe. He was just outside Dr. Kerr's office. _ It had to be Sydney_, he thought. Had he not seen her, his head wouldn't be a jumbled mess. It was already a place hard to concentrate, with him constantly reminded of their fight. Now seeing her countered all the anger he had inside him before. Just the sight of her was enough to make him want forgiveness. But no! He was mad at her! He wasn't supposed to want her back now. Except that he wanted her more than ever...  
  
Michael, you're late, Dr. Kerr said, poking her head out of the door. He nodded and followed her inside, and immediately made his way to the leather chair. Dr. Kerr hooked him up to the electrodes, and said. All right, you know the drill. Tell me where you are after I count backwards from three. Three... Two... One...  
  
He opened his eyes, finding himself in the usual hospital like bed, his wrists, legs, and torso bound with leather straps. Calluses were forming under their tight grasp, and much of the physical pain had subsided, however a headache was coming on.  
  
The door at his right opened, and he prepared himself for Sloane or Irina to enter the room. His eyes widened as Sydney stepped inside. She wore a red sweater...  
  
You can have your ring back, Michael Vaughn. I don't need it anymore. Because I lost my guardian angel, she said, tearing the diamond ring from her finger and chucking it at Vaughn's chest.  
  
Vaughn opened his real eyes, glad to be back in Dr. Kerr's office. She looked at him sternly. she sighed.  
  
I know, I know, just let me concentrate harder.  
  
Three... Two... One...  
  
Again he opened his eyes in the same room, on the same bed. The door clicked open once more, and instead of Sydney, out came Sloane. It's done, he said, with a twist of excitement.  
  
What is?  
  
Sloane simply laughed. We've finished it, he delighted, because I lost my guardian angel. His usual vile voice had changed mis sentence to a sugary sweet voice; that of which belonged to Sydney.  
  
He found himself back in Dr. Kerr's office. I'm really sorry, Dr. Kerr.  
  
We'll try again tomorrow. In the meantime, Michael, I suggest you do whatever you can to clear your head. She raised her eyebrows, and he nodded.  
  
As he exited the office, he missed her flash a quick smile, and he began to wander aimlessly through the halls. Would Sydney still be here? He wasn't sure if her presence would be a good thing. But he knew that if he was going to clear his head before tomorrow, that he needed to fix things with Sydney. He wasn't going to be able to take it much longer. Just the thought of her being angry with him... He couldn't stand it.  
  
He sat down at his desk again, leaning back in deep concentration. Soon, he found himself analyzing their fight again. Her mixture of emotions confused him so much. She seemed surprised to see him, yet her eyes were glad. And then the eye contact moment... What had she said before the eye contact? Oh yes, that he shouldn't swing by. But why shouldn't he? He had every right to go see her or Will. Even Donovan. He could get back his dog. At least he would have something to look forward to after work besides a new episode of a TV show. It was settled then. After work, he would head to Sydney's apartment and get his dog back.  
  
It was a simple affair, and an easy cover, but could he bring himself to drive to Sydney's house? After all, the last time he was there, he disappeared for two years.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
He turned off the ignition. How long had he been sitting in front of Sydney's apartment? He couldn't tell. But Vaughn needed to work up his courage and knock on her door. A battle commenced in his head: to knock, talk to Sydney and possibly work things out, or coward out, go home, and solve nothing. He knew the obvious choice – it was the road less traveled – yet he also knew which one he'd rather take.  
  
Sighing, he opened the door and stepped out. He locked the door and started up the path to Sydney's front door. Not much of the exterior of the house had changed. He was sure the inside would be different, what with all the fighting that Francie's clone and Sydney did. He wondered how both Will and Sydney could still live there after all that happened...  
  
His finger was mere centimeters away from the doorbell when suddenly the door swung open, and Will's face appeared through the growing crack. Syd's asleep, he said, I don't want to wake her. She doesn't get to sleep much these days...  
  
Will remained standing in the door. He didn't ask Vaughn inside, nor did he open it more than his body width. Vaughn started. His plan managed to fail somehow. Sydney wasn't supposed to be asleep! She was supposed to be at the door, and they were supposed to forgive each other. And then she would dump Corey and live happily ever after with Vaughn. The end!   
  
Alas, no. Kinks were always thrown in the mix; wrinkles were always in the blanket of life. They were also the reason why there were Plan B's. Could you tell her that... That I'm sorry for everything I said at the restaurant? That would have to do.  
  
he flipped his head urgently behind him, then checked his watch. Look, why don't you come back around seven, all right?  
  
Vaughn said, somewhat unsure. He planned to interrogate further, but Will closed the door in his face in a rush. Vaughn blinked in shock. Why did Will just do that? Maybe the accident that he and Francie's clone were involved him had somehow affected his brain. Or maybe, Will didn't want to talk to Vaughn because Sydney didn't want to talk to him. No, that was too juvenile a game for them to be playing. He sighed. Everything was so confusing right now, and all he wanted to do was clear his head.  
  
Without thought, he slipped into his car and began to drive, unaware of where it was taking him until he was parked. He found himself at the pier. Stepping out of his car, he went to the railing, allowing the cool March breeze to whip across his face. Every aspect of his life confused him. Absolutely everything. Inside he was screaming, and he wanted to scream on the outside; to let everybody hear his pain. He had no one to comfort him, and the one person he wanted comfort from refused to speak with him.  
  
Why couldn't it all be different? Why did this have to happen to him? Had he not been taken, so many things in his life would be better. He could have helped Sydney through her time in the hospital, been with her for her recovery, and helped her deal with losing Francie. Even just to be there while Will recovered would have helped. His relationship with Sydney would have blossomed to something even greater than what it had been. They would have gone to Santa Barbara together, gone to that great restaurant – he couldn't even recall the name now – seen that giraffe with the crooked neck, they would have revealed their love for one another... Hell, he and Sydney could have even been married by now. _Married_. Perhaps they would have had kids, too, and of course Donovan. The American Dream.  
  
Had he not been taken, Sydney never would have tried to escape from her hospital room. She never would have been tortured. She wouldn't be dating Corey Peterson, and she wouldn't be avoiding Vaughn.  
  
Basically, life would be perfect compared to the hell it was now.  
  
He rubbed his eyes, and wiped his hand down the rest of his face. The sun had begun to lower itself across the horizon, arraying pinks, purples, oranges, and blues in a velvet blanket. He checked his watch; it was nearly seven. Should he even bother to go back? Would Sydney actually speak to him? He couldn't be certain.   
  
He pictured the worst scenario: she wouldn't talk to him. Was that necessarily a bad thing? If he chose not to return, then she couldn't talk to him anyway. And they would accomplish nothing. Yet, if he went, he had the chance of seeing her perfect body in all her beauty. The opportunity was relentless. He _might_ see her. She _might_ talk to him... They _might_ fix things between them. He _might_ be able to sleep for once.  
  
_I'm going_, he thought. _ I have to go... There's too many pros and not enough cons. I'm just going to get into my car, and drive, and see where it takes me. I'm not going to think about my pain. And I'm not going to think about what could happen when I get there. I'm just going to breathe, and let it all happen. Where am I? Everything looks so different. The scenery has changed, and the little shops and such. I'm in her subdivision. Oh no, what if she still hates me? No, I have to think positive. Stay positive. _ He sighed_. Breathe in, breathe out..._  
  
He was in front of Sydney's apartment again, with his car stopped and ready for him to step out. Before he knew it, his feet had carried him out of his car, up the sidewalk, and finally in front of the door. He had no choice now; he had to ring the doorbell; it was now or never. Closing his eyes, he let his finger collide with the doorbell, a muted ring echoed throughout the apartment. Finally after what seemed like hours, a solemn Sydney opened the door. She leaned her head against the the corner, narrowing her eyes to Vaughn's body, but never meeting his eyes.  
  
Look... Will told me to come back –  
  
Yeah, I know, she sighed.  
  
I'm sorry about –  
  
It's ok. Will told me. And, I may have overreacted a little... She looked to the ground, as if for a loss of words. Would you come in for a minute? Please. There's... Someone I want you to meet.  
  
He almost choked. Corey. She wanted him to meet Corey. Was she sick and twisted? Did she only want to hurt him more? Apparently. She was serious. She was meeting his gaze.   
  
For one soul moment, everything was forgotten. All of the old emotions and memories were stirred up, and the love was thick in the air. The air was sucked from both their lungs, and the world stopped spinning. It all revolved around them, and them alone. Finally neither of them could breathe, and she stepped aside. Thoughtlessly, he entered, forgetting that it was the last thing he wanted to do; meet Corey. But if this was the only way he and Sydney could communicate, then this was the way it had to be.   
  
She pointed to the couch wear a familiar, wrinkly dog slept. Vaughn happily plopped down next to Donovan, giving him a good scratch behind the ears. Donovan recognized the hand, and adjusted himself so his head rested on Vaughn's lap. Vaughn couldn't let his old dog get his guard down, however, and he had to brace himself for what was coming.  
  
Sydney disappeared into the depths of the apartment. Vaughn heard Will's voice barely whisper, Are you sure? Fine, but are you ready? There was another moment of silence, and Vaughn dug his fingertips into Donovan's neck one final time before Sydney appeared again.  
  
What he saw next shocked him.  
  
Just over two feet, short and soft looking brown curls, bright green eyes, but the dimples and face to match that of her mother's...   
  
Vaughn asked, in an utter state of confusion. This was the last thing he expected. No, it was something he _never_ suspected.  
  
This is Alyssa Michaela Vaughn, Sydney stated firmly, her eyes focused directly at Vaughn's. She's our daughter.  
  
  
  
A/n: Nice twist, eh? YAY! I'm so glad I finally got to write this chapter... I've been waiting to forever! Please **REVIEW!** Please please please with ice cream and Vaughn on top...  
~Whitelighter Enchantress


	5. The Greatest Gift

Chapter 5: The Greatest Gift  
  


A/n: Oh my gosh, guys, thanks so much for your reviews. They really mean a lot to me.  
SydVaughn1001- I'm so glad that chapter was worthy of a review!  
  
Disclaimer: Didn't own it in previous chapters, still don't own it now. But wow, was that premiere amazing or what? And the second episode was great too. After seeing the scene with the conversation between Sydney and Weiss I was like, Hey, that sounds almost like what I wrote, and I just want to say that what I have was not taken from real Alias.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Vaughn was speechless. This little child Sydney held in front of him... Was his daughter? It couldn't be right. Why was Sydney doing this to him? Tormenting him, making him desperately want what he couldn't have. A dream. He must be dreaming. He had to be...  
  
But then again, everything was real. He felt the soft fur of Donovan beneath his fingertips, he felt the pain of expecting to meet Corey Peterson, he felt his heart melt the moment he saw Alyssa in Sydney's arms. Suddenly everything hit him like a brick wall. This was real, and Alyssa was his daughter. She had Vaughn's green eyes, and no one could have denied it. The shape and color were identical in every way, and even reflected the same curiosity and innocence as his did.  
  
Her behavior was different from toddlers Vaughn had met over the years, too. Instead of being shy and hiding her face in Sydney's neck, she was watching her father intently, almost with a knowledge that they were related. That was Vaughn's genes, not Sydney's. And her hair, a creamy brown, curled in soft feathers around her face; two pigtails on the top of her head.  
  
Vaughn already felt like he knew every inch of her; felt like he'd known her since birth. Such a connection was present that one could pull it's essence out of thin air. He read every movement she made, every gentle sound, every image he saw and analyzed it all together...  
  
Overwhelm. That was what he now felt. The stages had passed, from confusion to anger to pain, and now the feeling of being overwhelmed. It was certainly not something he had planned for, but was much more comforting than the pain. His daughter was impressing him already. She was the reason his pain had been sucked away, leaving nothing but a trickle behind. She was the reason all his anger had subsided. She was the reason, he felt, that suddenly everything in the world was right; no one was hurt nor was anyone feeling anything but happy. The world was perfect. He actually wanted to wake up in the morning...  
  
Vaughn, say something, Sydney urged, shifting her weight with Alyssa on her hip.  
  
His newfound speech impediment was cause for problem now. He opened his mouth several times before finally a sound emerged. She's... Beautiful. The only two words he could process that made an sense, yet they were the most appropriate words he would have chosen if he had a Webster's Dictionary.  
  
Sydney set Alyssa on her small feet and took a seat on the couch. She glanced nervously at Vaughn before turning her attention back to Alyssa. The toddler tilted her head sideways to the right before taking a few steps towards her father. Vaughn's heartbeat rose as she neared him. Finally she stopped abruptly before him, her eye level at the height of his belly button, and slowly reached her hand out towards him. He gulped. Did she always just do that? Randomly stick her hand out in the air? He didn't know what to do or how he was supposed to react. His mind resorted to doing what came natural: taking her hand into his.  
  
_Why was I confused?_ he would have wondered, had he not been feeling so many emotions. Each swirled about in a rush inside of him, none in a hurry to smooth out, however, but all of which could boil down to only one thing: deep, meaningful, truly heartfelt love. A love so strong that even that sharpest knife could not break it; a love so pure that the darkest evil couldn't withstand it; and a love so everlasting that it could outlive the immortal gods.  
  
Alyssa suddenly pulled her hand away, hiding it behind her neck; a large smile covering her face, and she giggled, enjoying the game she had invented. Vaughn couldn't help but smile. He looked up at Sydney, expecting to see her grinning back at him. Yet of course, he had forgotten everything. She stared idly at her daughter as reality once again smacked Vaughn in the face. He came to his senses. When... How...  
  
I was about six weeks pregnant when you disappeared, she canted, then caught Vaughn's gaze. She's fifteen months. Today, actually.  
  
So... Her birthday is December 14?  
  
  
  
There was so much he had missed: the pregnancy, the birth, watching Alyssa grow up... How could he ever make it up to Sydney and Alyssa? But mostly, how could he make it up to himself? Oh, God, he thought. _ I have to be the worst father in the world. Father. I can't believe it. She's... mine.  
_  
Alyssa had briefly stuck her head behind the couch, only to return with a stuffed lion gripped firmly in her tiny hands. She ran, if one could call the heavy pounding of her feet running, up to her father and handed him the stuffed animal, exclaiming, Her first word to him; a moment he would treasure. He graciously took the offered toy and held it at his side, while Alyssa carefully observed his movements. As if seeing an immediate trust in his eyes somewhere, she slowly inched forward then climbed up onto the couch, allowing only the stuffed lion to physically separate them. Vaughn couldn't tear his eyes away. Alyssa captivated him completely; a person so unknown to him, yet he felt that wanted to know her for the rest of his lifetime. How could anybody not? He still couldn't look away. If he did, he would have noticed that Sydney's eyes were welled with tears.  
  
He couldn't think straight. Should he say something to her? Should he kiss her head or give her a hug? He felt somewhat like a teenage boy on his first date. Suddenly Alyssa turned to look at him, a big smile gracing her face. His heart melted. It was a smile that he hadn't seen in a long time; a full smile that belonged to Sydney. Alyssa leaned her head against Vaughn's arm, finding an untapped comfort in him. All of a sudden, Vaughn felt fully capable of everything the world could throw at him. He felt like he had no problems, and it all led to Alyssa. She was his life. All he wanted to do was be her father, be her protector, be her teacher, be her everything. It was so simple, yet so complex.  
  
Does... Does my mother know? The only question that could come to mind.  
  
Yes. But I told her not to tell you. Sydney couldn't look at him anymore.  
  
Why? Why would you keep something like this from me? He asked as harshly as he could without shouting. Why would you keep this a secret? I've been here for nearly two weeks. I think that gave you plenty of time to tell me. He stopped for a moment, while Alyssa crawled into his lap. he added with a much softer tone, I love her. He waited for her reaction, yet she continued to stare blankly.   
  
She shook her head out of her daze. I think you should go now, Vaughn, she said, standing up and taking Alyssa away from him. Vaughn immediately stood up. Alyssa, say bye-bye to... say bye-bye to daddy. Alyssa awkwardly stuck her hand up at her mother's command and ecstatically waved her arm, saying, and not understanding the situation.  
  
Sydney, I –  
  
Goodbye, Vaughn, she sighed, still not meeting his gaze.  
  
After everything he had been through during these past two weeks, this, he discovered, was what caused him the most pain. Why would she give him the greatest gift, only to take it away? But then again, he had learned nothing. He loved Sydney, but she was taken away from him. Alyssa was just another thing missing. In his heart, he knew that he could eventually get over Sydney, but he could never get over Alyssa.  
  
He waited a while, hoping that Sydney might make eye contact. She never did, and grimly he headed towards the door. He didn't look back. He didn't say anything. He didn't care. He let his fingers grasp the doorknob and pull open the door in a hurry, only to shut it behind him. Regret of an intense form washed over him. Why _didn't_ he say anything? Why _didn't_ he turn around? Now he would never know that Sydney followed closely behind him, hesitating too long although she wanted to say something. Now he would never know...  
  
I'm a father, Vaughn whispered hoarsely. He leaned his head back against the door, unable to move. His body slid down until the cool cement step stopped him. Little did he know, Sydney was doing the exact same thing on the opposite side.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Dude, you look like someone just attacked you with rabid lawnmower, Weiss greeted Vaughn the next morning at work. Vaughn hadn't heard him, but mildly looked at his friend. No, seriously, what's up?  
  
He sighed. Except for the fact that everything's upside-down right now... He closed his eyes, shaking his head. I'm a father.  
  
Weiss nodded. So you know...  
  
Yes. I definitely know. But I don't have a clue where I stand with Sydney and Alyssa. God, everything's so messed up right now. Nothing's like it's supposed to be.   
  
Weiss nodded solemnly, unsure of how to comfort his friend. Why don't I take you out to dinner tonight. Just you and me. We can talk, he tried.  
  
Yeah, that... sounds good. Yeah. He didn't want to go to dinner with Weiss that night, let alone talk with him about everything that had been happening. There was reasoning behind it, but something exactly that he just couldn't place. He thought maybe because he knew Weiss too well, and believed that Weiss's mind was always elsewhere. Mostly, Vaughn was in no condition to be discussing his life. He hated the rush of emotions whenever he was reminded of events over the last two weeks. Vaughn checked his watch. All right. I have to go to my therapy session now. I'll meet you later.   
  
He wandered through the halls, trying to forget anything from last night. _Remember, you aren't mad at each other anymore_, he told himself.   
  
_But I am mad at her!_ he countered back. _She wants to keep Alyssa from me! _  
  
_You don't know that for sure... You're still Alyssa's father, which she can't change. Sydney still trusts you. You have to believe that.  
  
But what if I can't? What if I truly believe that she doesn't love me anymore?  
  
NO!  
_  
He almost shouted it. Even as he thought it, he soon found himself leaning against a nearby wall, his fingers plastered to it for support. His body was shaking. Dammit, he was arguing with himself again. Vaughn knew he had to stop before he went out of control; before he lost himself in his confusion and anger; before he was inundated by everything.  
  
Ah, Michael, here you are. It was Dr. Kerr. I hoped you've cleared your head since yesterday?  
  
Wait, before we get started, I know I'm not going to be able to concentrate. So let's not even bother. He paused, and she looked curiously at him waiting for a solution. Could we, um, just talk instead? What? No! He didn't want to talk about his problems with anyone. No one would understand, no one _could_ understand. But Dr. Kerr was not Eric Weiss...  
  
She hesitated. ... Yes. Yes, I think that would be a good idea. Take a break. Okay. Come on in, make yourself comfortable. Vaughn flashed her a quick, nervous smile before entering the room and taking a seat in a cold leather chair. Dr. Kerr took her time getting to her seat, allowing Vaughn to get a better look around her office. Her desk was neat and orderly, with her pens and pencils in a child-made jar, a shiny metal name plate with Dr. Virginia Kerr' printed elegantly in capital letters, and pictures of her with her family – with her long brown hair finally let down from the usual tight bun she wore it in. It resembled many of the desks he saw in the CIA or any office, yet she had made it her own to match her personality. I was a desk, he knew, that he would one day want. she interrupted his thoughts, what is so keen on holding your attention?  
  
Dr. Kerr, I've been missing for two years, he said obviously.  
  
She raised her eyebrows. Well, I know that. It didn't stop you before from concentrating, though.  
  
I know, and that isn't really an excuse. It's just, well, I've recently made some discoveries.  
  
  
  
I... have a daughter.  
  
She smiled. Ah, yes. So you know about Alyssa... Vaughn leaned his head back. So everyone in the CIA knew about Alyssa except him? Great. Just peachy. He used to be one of the most well-informed agents of the CIA, and now he was Mr. Clueless. This seemed hardly fair.   
  
And what?  
  
And what's on your mind now that you're a daddy?  
  
I'm confused. And a little scared, I guess. Scared? Did he just tell this woman that he was scared? He wouldn't even tell Sydney when he felt scared, let alone this woman whom he barely knew. Why could it just slip so easily? But suddenly he found new words and feeling pouring out of him like endless finger compressions on a keyboard. He told her absolutely everything; all of the matters that he least wanted to think of simply spilling out of him.  
  
He told her in great detail his confusion, to anger, to pain, to overwhelm. He told her about his fight with Sydney, about how he still loved her, but how her heart belonged to another man. He told her about Alyssa, his daughter and new found love, and how he didn't know what to do next. Should he talk to Sydney? He would demand to be part of Alyssa's life. Did he know how to be a father? His left him at the age of six.  
  
And I never know who I can talk to anymore... he finished, glancing at a clock. He had been talking for nearly an hour, all while Dr. Kerr listened patiently.  
  
Vaughn looked up at her, raising his eyebrows and waiting for her to speak. She licked her lips before opening her mouth. You keep asking yourself rhetorical questions... Answer them! I think you know the answers. It all comes down to what you want. What do you want, Michael?  
  
It didn't take a second's hesitation for him to utter, Yet a millisecond later he said, And Alyssa. He laughed at himself, rolling his eyes. And my life the way it was before.  
  
Dr. Kerr smiled. Then I believe we have solved the problem.  
  
_Have we really?_ he wondered. Perhaps it really was that easy, yet it didn't seem possible. Just wanting something? No, that's not what she meant. If it was something he truly desired, demanded, tried for with all his might; if he obsessed and devoted, then he could attain it. He could get Sydney, he could get Alyssa. Could he get his old life back? No, but if he had the previous two then he would learn to accept his new one. Acceptance. It was all about accepting every little aspect and change.  
  
All right, have we had enough? Dr. Kerr asked, receiving a nod.  
  
Yes. And thank you. For listening, he mumbled.  
  
Any time.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
He had wanted to go to Francie's restaurant again, and somewhat begrudgingly, Weiss took him. All through the car ride, however, Vaughn dreaded the coming event with his friend. When they took their seats at a table, he allowed an awkward silence to slip between them.  
  
You know, we said we were going to talk. In order to do that, we kind of need a topic, Weiss finally said after too long. It's your call.  
  
Vaughn sighed. Look, I know I said this was a good idea, but the truth is I don't have anything to say. Okay, so it wasn't the truth, but he couldn't hurt his friend. _Eric, I just can't talk to you_ wasn't good enough for him.  
  
Oh, come on. Just this morning you would have paid me to hear about Alyssa.  
  
Well... I just don't know enough about anything. I'm still uninformed about a lot of things around here.  
  
Eric glanced around nervously before leaning in slightly towards Vaughn. We got some more test results from that hospital in Hong Kong, he whispered. They show definite proof that you were brainwashed. And, I don't know if I'm authorized to tell you this, but I figure you'll find out anyway. There was a team created during your disappearance that specialized specifically in your whereabouts. Anyway, the three of us concluded that because you were brainwashed that you must have given away CIA secrets.  
  
And that's how Sloane and Derevko have been able to stay in hiding for so long? Weiss nodded. But I thought it was nearly impossible to brainwash an adult, let alone a member of the Agency.  
  
Leave it to Sloane to find a way, though. But it explains why it's difficult to perform the hypnotic regression therapy, and why you don't remember anything.  
  
That's insane. Sloane could just start doing this to... to anyone with information he wants.  
  
We know. Which is why you've got to clear your head and get back some memories.  
  
It was all beginning to come together. Weiss didn't just want to hang out with his friend and help him with his problems; he was doing it for the good of the world. And he understood the message: they needed to find Sloane before he could cause anymore damage. Vaughn couldn't blame his friend, though. If he were in Weiss's position he would have done the same thing. It was important to secure the safety of the nation because he knew that Sloane would use this as the deadliest weapon; one more powerful than those of mass destruction. There was more importance now in finding Sloane than there ever was before, and the entire CIA knew that Vaughn was the key...  
  
Vaughn asked, Sydney in my special team?  
  
No. No, it's just me, Dixon, and Kendall. It was Kendall who thought that she would be too emotionally involved. But I'm pretty sure Jack Bristow was helping to get us information. Obviously, Sydney had been too emotionally involved. If she went off on her own trying to find him, only to be tortured, then surely she was emotionally driven. Yet there was no doubt in Vaughn's mind that if Sydney knew about the team, that she would have wanted to be a part of it. Aw, crap, Weiss continued. I've done all the talking and you haven't done any. Oh, how the tables have turned, my friend.  
  
Vaughn chuckled slightly and let his eyes wander aimlessly around the restaurant, first settling at the bar. He remembered that was where he saw Sydney... Except she was not there tonight. The bar was surrounded by mostly men, drinking away their middle-of-the-week troubles, and a few waitresses that they were hitting on. But there was a man sitting alone that specifically caught his eye. He seemed to be sitting with no work buddies and there were no waitresses surrounding him, despite his good looks. His blonde hair matted his forehead as he slowly took a sip of his beer. It didn't matter how far away Vaughn was; he could see the sadness in this man's eyes. Not quite the sadness Vaughn had seen, but more of a depression slipping over him inch by inch.  
  
After a moment, Weiss's eyes followed Vaughn's fixed gaze to the bar, only to let his mouth drop a little when he saw the final destination. You know what? he asked, standing up. We haven't ordered anything yet and you don't really want to talk anyway so I don't see why we can't just go –  
  
  
  
I – I... he stuttered, casting nervous glances from Vaughn to the bar. Just subtle clues until Vaughn finally understood.  
  
Once he realized it he couldn't believe it. It couldn't be him, could it? No. No, of course it couldn't be. Yet it was... That's him!? Vaughn hissed under his breath, pulling Weiss back into his seat. That's Corey?  
  
I... I plead the fifth!  
  
Come on, Eric. That's Corey Peterson, isn't it? If it wasn't, Vaughn would be damned. The sad, blonde man, sitting alone at the bar on his third beer, with his broad shoulders slumping and his slouch hanging over the bar. Oh, how Vaughn disliked him very much already...  
  
Okay, so it is. But you can't go up to him or anything. Please don't try to talk to him.  
  
Don't worry, I wasn't planning on it. He paused for a moment, licking his lips. I don't see what's so special about him. What makes Sydney want him more than me?  
  
Well, you're much better looking. And I bet you smell better than he does. But I guess he was here and you weren't.  
  
It was true though. Vaughn had left her at one of the worst possible times. Pregnant and alone, then a single mother. It was in her nature to find help, and she found Corey. But it wasn't Vaughn's fault! Sloane had kidnapped him! Couldn't she see that? She'd _have_ to see that.  
  
He turned his attention back to Corey, who was downing his fourth beer now. I do _not_ want that man around my daughter if he drinks that much.  
  
Mike, I really think we should go, Weiss urged.  
  
Vaughn took one final look at the man who stole his two loves. Fine. Let's go. He would avoid a confrontation at all costs at this point. _Clear my head_, he remembered, _clear my head.  
_  
  
  
A/n: What did you think? **REVIEW!** You guys did great last time with the whole reviewing concept. Thanks again. Sorry that this chapter took so long to write, I've just been really busy with school and basketball lately. The next chapter shouldn't take me this long, I promise (*****BTW, the next chapter will be a little different from all the other ones, just to tell you. Still good though, I hope!*****).  
~Whitelighter Enchantress


	6. Breakdown

Chapter 6: Breakdown  
  


A/n: Thanks for the reviews! Ok, so like I said, this chapter is the only different one throughout the whole fic (though I _may_ do it again if you like it). How is it different, you ask? Well, it is **from Sydney's point of view**. Gasp! I know, I know, but I wanted you all to read this because I make references to it in future chapters. Read and enjoy, I hope.  
  
Disclaimer: Same old, same old. I own Alyssa and Corey. But I plan to throw Corey in a dumpster one day... Mwahaha.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
It's strange how one's feelings coincide with the seasons. It starts with the spring, when new life is born and new feelings stir, then to the summer when it all heats up in the fiery sun. Then autumn, when the beauty turns golden, orange, red, and flutters about the streets and sidewalks wherever you go. And at last, the winter; snowing white elegance and gracing the tips of your nose. At least, that's how it's supposed to be. My spring was ruined when a snowy downpour took everyone by surprise, killing all hopes of new growth. My summer's heat left me in extreme misery; a temperature which couldn't be handled and a mood which no one could be happy. With autumn came falling leaves; falling happiness; no beauty in life at all, only to leave the trees as barren and empty as my heart. Then the winter... A cold so frozen that it numbed everything except the pain. The snow kept coming, more each day; heavy to the point where it sucks you down and you can't move. It weighs you down and there's no way out, no way around it. And you just have to deal with it. Deal with everything: all the snow life can throw at you. And finally spring arrives again bringing a sliver of hope that life will renew again, yet it doesn't, and the cycle repeats itself season after season.  
  
Then the following spring, the sun came out. It melted any remnants of snow and allowed you to lift yourself and see the greatness around you. Most of all, the sun had returned to my life. I could feel again, I could walk again. It was incredible. But why? Why had it returned? Was it because I said I love you' to someone again? That wasn't it. I said that all along to Alyssa, meaning every word. I said it for a short while to Corey, yet a mindless saying that came from my head and not from my heart. That spring was growing more delightful each day, and finally life became somewhat enjoyable.  
  
I should have known something was coming. No one could have guessed it was possible... I got the phone call just after Alyssa fell asleep. Kendall's voice... It was so far away, like – I don't know – like I was drifting farther away from everything he said to me. There was no way what he said could be true. No, none of it. Why wasn't I dreaming, dammit?  
  
I wanted to fall back into the endless pit of pain and sadness, drown my sorrows. I'd even jump back into the pit if I could. But I was frozen with the phone pressed to my ear, wanting to scream, wishing I could jump for joy, yearning so many things.  
  
He told me I was leaving; I should be the one to go. He told me? Or did I beg him... I don't remember talking, thinking, or even breathing. I don't remember telling Will to stay with Alyssa. I wonder what that flight was like for me, the one heading to Hong Kong. Was I scared? Was I crying? Was I surprised? Was I grateful he was alive? I had to be all those things. I still am... Still I cry every night, still I find myself surprised at what I say to certain people, namely him, and scared at what might be the repercussions to come, and still I'm grateful he's alive.  
  
I do remember one thing about that flight to Hong Kong: the sun shone brightly through the whole flight, and I kept asking myself why is was still gorgeous outside. It was supposed to be cloudy and gray, raining, or snowing again. Something to bury me into the depths of the world...  
  
The rest I remember perfectly. Seeing Vaughn again, the ring, his confusion, him in the hospital. The hospital. That's where everything let loose. That's where I realized that it should have been me that was taken, that he didn't deserve this, that he went through all of this because of me. He really _was_ my guardian angel... But why did he have to leave me!? When he was gone I lost so much. I discovered he'll never know the realness of what happened those two years. I thought it would be best if I protected him from Alyssa. I can't even explain to myself how I could have been thinking that way. But the memories were almost too much too handle again...  
  
_My eyes painfully open, only to immediately close. A bright light is taking me over. I think I could be dead, the way my body hurts. But when I can open my eyes again I'm in a hospital. Hospital? The fight... It all comes flooding back: Francie was doubled, probably dead by now, Allison Doren had tried to kill me, she had killed Will, and I had probably killed her. I try to sit up, find someone I know, but it hurts too much. Finally someone is next to me, holding my hand. Oh, Vaughn, thank you for being here...  
  
It isn't Vaughn, though. It is my dad. Where's... Vaughn? I manage to grumble through more intense pain.  
  
He looks at me grimly. Sh, sh, don't speak, he says. Sydney, do you remember what happened back in your apartment? I nod with as little movement as possible. It's been almost a day and a half. Allison died the moment you shot her. Will hasn't woken up yet –  
  
He's... alive? I feel so relieved.  
  
Yes, but please, it's best if you keep resting right now. You really need to, after everything your body's going through right now. It's a miracle that you... are alive. I can't help but feel that he was going to say something else. I don't know what it was. But I know I'm not going to sleep until I see Vaughn. I obey my father, and instead of talking, I mouth, Vaughn' to him. Not now, Sydney. I look at him sternly. Where is Vaughn? Again, I mouth his name, and Dad sits back down next to me. There was a car accident... he begins, immediately inferring that Vaughn could be injured, or even... No, he couldn't possibly be dead. My eyes plead with him to continue. His body hasn't been found yet.  
  
Yet? What do... you mean... yet? I force myself to say. Oh, what could have happened to him?  
  
It happened the night of your fight. When the police got there, no one could be found. We think he may have been intercepted.  
  
I want to cry, so much, or to do something. Scream? It doesn't matter. We're –  
  
We have everyone at the CIA looking for him. But you have got to rest. Please, just stay here, get some sleep; the faster you recover the better. He flashes me a fake comforting smile, one I would like to rip off his face. Just before he reaches the door, he says, We'll find him, don't worry.  
  
How on earth am I going to sleep, knowing my boyfriend is probably being tortured right this instant!? It sends shivers down my spine and I try to refrain from that thought. I know one thing is for sure: that I am not going to stay sitting in this hospital while everyone fails around me. I am going to find him, I know it. If only it didn't hurt so much to move! Once I can feel my legs again I will leave. I will walk right out of the hospital, jump onto whatever plane I need to, and do whatever it takes to get him back with me.  
  
I have to wait a day before I stop caring about the pain. Maybe it has been less than a day, maybe a little more, but I decide to ignore anything I am feeling to go find him. I have to find him; I have no other choice. What about Santa Barbara? We were going to have the best time if this hadn't happened. How I wish he could be with me so I could tell him that I love him. I love him! And I want him so desperately to know it.  
  
My feet settle on the cold floor of the hospital, and creep one by one towards the door. The pain lashes at me and tries to pull me back, but I won't let it. Deep breaths turn to gasps and my chest grows tighter; the torment of pain is enough. My legs can no longer hold my weight, and down I tumble.  
  
It stings like nothing I've felt before, yet I can't feel it; the news of Vaughn powers over it all. I dig my fingers into the floor, trying to pull myself to the door. I'm almost there; please, just a little further. Can't... go... on...  
  
The door drifts farther away. Someone is carrying me away, but who? It must be a hospital employee, what is he saying? Blurry sight, fuzzy sound, yet everything whirs in pain. The agony, the failure, the excruciating tease is everywhere; I can't get away; I can't move; I want to...  
  
**Die.**  
  
I'm crying. Why does it hurt so badly? Make it stop, Dixon. He holds my hand. He tells me we're all right, but who is we? Can't I ask!? No, nothing emerges from my mouth but meaningless wails and whimpers. Dammit, where is Vaughn? I squeeze Dixon's hand harder. The harder I squeeze the more pain is suppressed... I'm probably hurting him but I can't tell – as long as it goes away from me. I can hear again. But I don't understand what Dixon talks about. ... help it recover... ... Agent Vaughn is... ... you won't be alone through this...  
  
Through what? I want to scream, but I can't. Dixon wipes away my steady tears with the pads of his thumbs. I manage to mumble, miraculously.  
  
Shh, you need your strength. I just spoke with one of the doctors. They say the baby is stable again.  
  
B – baby?   
  
Yes, shh, you almost lost it with your fall. But you both should be fine if you just rest and stay in bed... I am... pregnant? Oh God, where is Vaughn? I need him now. Now! You hear that, CIA? **Now**. How can I be pregnant? Wow. Vaughn and I are going to have a child; a little piece of both of us to cherish forever. Vaughn and I **forever..**. _  
  
The surprise snow only fell harder from there. My summer came and went, all while the pregnancy felt unreal. I went through extensive torture before I realized what I might lose; the closest thing I had to Vaughn. Everyone believed he was dead; everyone but me. And I went to the ends of the world to find him. I never want to remember what I went through for him; only what I realized after that incident. What if Vaughn really is dead? I'm sure I asked myself. Did I ever think about that? I looked down at my stomach, only gently protruding then. What was I doing there!? I couldn't let my piece of Vaughn down. Surely if I kept this up; if I continued to be tortured; I'd lose it. My baby, my precious baby Vaughn. I had to escape, I'd die if I didn't. _I can't die anymore! I have to live now; I want to live now._  
  
I can't even remember my escape. The next memory isn't until December 14, 2003, at nearly six in the morning. I'd remember that moment down to the second had I been aware. The first time I saw her; held her in my arms; told her how much she was loved; how much better my life was because of her; how she kept me alive... I remember telling her that I named her Alyssa, a name that Francie and I both adored and argued over who could name their daughter that. I later learned that it meant rational; a perfect fit for how I felt at that time. I gave her the middle name of Michaela, of course, after him. And finally, I would make certain that her last name was Vaughn. I told her how much her father would love her; how much her Aunt Francie would have loved her too; how Grandpa Vaughn would have spoiled her and how Grandma Bristow would have too, had there not been less fortunate events in their lives. I told her how I felt – my true feelings of everything that had happened since that night – something I hadn't told to anyone. And I cried when she cried, for I held in her a trust of which I held with no one. I talked with her how I would talk to Vaughn, only instead of receiving his voice I found his eyes. Alyssa's green eyes were my savior and stronghold. I found in them the same strength I found in Vaughn's, and I thank God for them. Everyone told me how much she looked like me, but I only saw more Vaughn in her each day.  
  
She never slept as a newborn. I endured several months of intense sleep deprivation during this time, however, I had not truly felt the aid of sleep since those weeks in the hospital. In actuality, I'm glad that I almost never slept. I remember the times where I was asleep very vividly; though they are one of the many things I would like to forget. When I slept I had dreams; dreams which were worse than reality. They broke my heart with each minute while I cuddled with my Vaughn, only to be ripped away from him time after time. I couldn't thank Alyssa more for keeping me from the continuing anguish.  
  
Even with my ever growing love for my daughter, I was trapped. The snow buried me and my love for her until the spring came and it was time to bury Vaughn. Will drove Alyssa and I that morning, in an oddly silent car. Even my baby felt the grim tension in the atmosphere at only a few months of age. I stared mindlessly out the window, my only movement was my shallow breaths. When the car stopped at the cemetery, Will carefully took Alyssa into his arms and carried her out. I would have followed, but I couldn't move. Why should I leave the car, my warm protection from everything? Here I couldn't be hurt, the harsh winds could not lash at my face, the gray sky could not fall as rain on me. If I didn't see him buried... then he wasn't dead. Surely, if there's no funeral, then no death. I convinced myself that was how it actually was. I stared out the window as it began to lightly drizzle, feeling protected and growing more insane by the minute. My eyes would occasionally settle on the faces of my friends and coworkers. I could name everyone attending the funeral. Even Alice was there. All of them were crying. All of them. Except for me...   
  
Once again, the weather brought me down with it. I let the rain pour down upon everything in sight, yet when the clouds parted all that was left was the gray skies to keep submerged in my state of depression. I remained hidden in the snow, finding comfort in an igloo I had created for myself.  
  
Then I met Corey Peterson.  
  
I don't remember the exact day, hour, or second that I first saw him like I remember with Vaughn, but I do know that we had been growing closer beginning in the late summer. His intentions were trying to save me from my igloo, however, he simply shoveled a snow path for me and is still waiting at the end, shovel in hand. My love for him came at the pace of a slug and was not an immediate sexual attraction. But I quickly found that he was a great friend: someone to talk to and someone to help me. Someone I could easily depend on when there was no one left. And saying I love you' to Corey is like saying Hello' when you answer the phone: something you're happy to do, but know that it's more out of respect and politeness than anything else.  
  
How did it feel when I told Vaughn I loved him? Oh, right, I didn't. But if only he knew... I remember how it felt when I realized it, though. It's the best thought anyone can think, knowing they're in love. The moment I realized that I loved Vaughn was that night we first made love. And when you think about the love, such an incredible feeling fills your heart, body, and soul until you are floating along through the clouds and heavens. You want to smile all the time, and yell your secret out to anyone and everyone; I love him, I love him! Not how it's like with Corey...  
  
And as I drive along these roads damp from the rain, this is all I can think about. It's even harder to think about anything else with my returning to work; seeing Vaughn everyday and being reminded of it all constantly; he casts me those long penetrating glances that I wish I could ignore, yet thirst that I could stare deeply back into.  
  
I soon find myself sitting in my driveway. How long have I been here? It doesn't matter, it's like this everywhere I go. After grabbing my purse I dash into the house to avoid the still misting rain. I call softly, knowing Alyssa could be sleeping.   
  
Will's head peers out of the kitchen and greets me with a smile. Lately I've noticed the weight he's gained back since that night two years ago. He barely ate anything while recovering, not just in the hospital, but even after he was getting his life back together. He refused to come near anything that gave him energy; life. Now he looks as if nothing had happened, minus a few scars on his neck and torso. Hey. Lyssa's asleep, I just got her down. He rubs his pale, blue eyes , and scratched the back of his neck. What time is it?  
  
I briefly look at my watch. Almost five thirty. Wow, I got out a little early today. I bite my lip. This is the perfect opportunity; almost too perfect. Alyssa is asleep, I am home early... I had hoped that the time for me to talk with Will would be later, but this is, again, the perfect moment. I slowly let out the breath I was holding before I speak again. Will, can we, um, talk for a while? At least until Alyssa wakes up?  
  
Immediately he furrows his brow, assuming something is wrong. Sure. Come on, let's go sit on the couch. I follow him idly, glancing around the apartment, until finally we settle down on the couch; I nestle into the corner and cuddle the pillow into my stomach. So what's up? he asks casually, but with a look of concern in his eye.  
  
I don't know where to begin. But suddenly my eyes water with tears that threaten to fall. Quickly I wipe them away, hoping something decent will come out my mouth. I... I need to talk with you about Vaughn. Or Corey. Or – I don't know. About something! Maybe why Vaughn is always on my mind when I think I love Corey –  
  
You think or you know?  
  
Know. I know... I _know_. Why did I say think? I look back at Will, contemplating how to continue. Why did I let myself start this conversation in the first place? _Because you need help, that's why_. Will, I'm so confused. I know that I love Corey, but I don't think I've spent more than fifteen minutes with him ever since Vaughn came back. And Vaughn! He's all I can think about. I'm worried about him, I guess. I don't know! This is so confusing. I bury my face in the pillow momentarily. This shouldn't be as hard as it is. All I have to do is look at Alyssa and I'm reminded of everything that he's lost. God, there's so much. But Corey was there. He's the one who's helped me through this. Not Vaughn.  
  
But it wasn't Vaughn's fault that he was missing.  
  
I sigh. Will's right, and while I'm angry that Vaughn couldn't be here for me, I need to put the blame on someone. If only I could explain to him that I loved Vaughn more than anything when he left... But why couldn't it have been Vaughn? I ask it meekly, and the tears I tried to wipe away are now flowing down my face. Will's arms wrap tightly around me as my head falls naturally onto his shoulder. I don't understand why I'm crying so hard now. _Now_. Alyssa has been the only person to see me cry, and Vaughn has seen the remnants of tears, I know. But maybe it's time to let loose. Maybe I should just let my feelings bust out into the open. But no! I can't do that; I've never done that and I'll never do that.  
  
It's true that I loved Vaughn more than Corey. It's true that Vaughn left. It's true that Corey cleared my path in the snow. It's true that I do love Corey, and want him to be a part of my life. It's also true that I want Vaughn to be there too. For Alyssa, of course. But perhaps for...  
  
Did you see the way he looked at Alyssa? He loves her! He even said so. There was that instant attraction between them. I just can't keep him away from that; I won't let myself keep him from Alyssa.  
  
Will is silent for a moment as he lets my tears slowly dry. he says when he believes it is safe to speak again, I think it's in Alyssa's best interest to give her time with her dad. I mean, she has known Corey longer, but you're right. There was an immediate bond between them.  
  
I just don't know what to do. Why, why, why did I bring this this up!? I only grow more confused and angry as my thoughts easily slip off my tongue. Will can't help me. I know he can't. Dammit! I liked my igloo, and then the sun had to go and melt it. The igloo; so comfortable, so protective, so easy. And reality...  
  
Why do I always lose everyone I love? I ask rhetorically, rolling my eyes. I had lost my mother, and in a different way, my father, then Danny, then Noah, Francie, and last and most certainly not least, Vaughn. I came so close to losing Will, and even closer to miscarrying Alyssa.   
  
Except what?  
  
Whoops, I didn't want to say the except' part out loud. It was meant for me, and for my reasoning. Can I take it back? No, it's too late. I take a deep breath, prepared for what I know I am about to say. Except, Vaughn came back.  
  
Then I think you know the answer, he says quite calmly, surprising me.  
  
I do?  
  
Yeah. The answer's blatantly obvious. You just have to ask yourself what you want.  
  
What I want, that's what it all comes down to. I stare back at Will with a look of uncertainty on my face. He simply smiles broadly, rustles my hair and walks back into the kitchen, leaving me all alone on the couch. I'm still hugging the pillow tightly. Could Will be right? I sit for a moment and ponder.  
  
What _do_ I want...?  
  
  
  
A/n: I hope the different stuff was okay. Please tell me if you liked/disliked the Sydney POV chapter. It's okay if you didn't but just give me some feedback. And don't worry, those of you who missed Vaughn this time around (don't worry, I missed him too), but he'll be back for the rest of the chapters. So without anymore ramblings on my part, **REVIEW!**   
~Whitelighter Enchantress


	7. Mutual Triumph

Chapter 7: Mutual Triumph  


  
A/n: Thanks for reviewing! Your feedback means so much. And now, back to Vaughn... Be warned: I think this chapter is a little boring, personally. The next one is going to be a lot better, I promise you.  
  
Disclaimer: Belongs to JJ, not to me.  
  
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Sleep.  
  
It was not just the people he missed, or the places, or events either.  
  
Sleep.  
  
Nor was it the things he lost.  
  
Sleep.  
  
That was what he missed the most. S-L-E-E-P. A perfect, dreamless, slumber. Was that too much to ask? Apparently. He couldn't remember the last real sleep he had, one without the dreams, or... blacking out. The dream haunted him somewhat in the daytime, also. Again, he lay trussed in the hospital bed, struggling to break free. Sloane and Irina were talking in a corner; they were talking about him again. They were saying – he strained to hear – where they would go after they rid of him. But alas, he would always wake or snap back to reality before anything was revealed. This dream taunted him and drove him insane until he finally revealed them to Dr. Kerr, who was immensely interested.  
  
Have you ever considered, she pondered, that this is not just a dream, but a memory? It was an interesting thought. Why hadn't it occurred to him before? He didn't worry about it for too long; he knew his recent thoughts had been about Sydney and Alyssa. How did you say it ended again?  
  
Sloane and Derevko are about to reveal their destination when I usually get woken up by my alarm clock or something.  
  
She licked her lips for a moment in thought. And this dream happens every night you said? He nodded. Okay. Tonight, I want you to turn off your alarm. Try to sleep as long as you can to get the rest of that memory. Hopefully you retrieve that location. They may still be there.  
  
But what if it doesn't work? he asked.  
  
Then we'll keep trying.  
  
He nodded, though remained skeptical. He seriously doubted that this would work, and all he would receive was a bad scolding from Kendall in the morning on the importance of punctuality.  
  
Despite his skeptics, he turned off his alarm clock as Dr. Kerr wished and settled in his bed for a long night. Sleep couldn't find him, though. He let the late night shows mutely flash across the TV screen in the corner of his bedroom while his eyes fell into a restless daze. Leave it to the night he needed to sleep to become an insomniac...  
  
Eventually he drifted off, lost in nothing.  
  
_He pretended to sleep. Sloane and Irina talked in the corner, and he couldn't risk not hearing what they had to say. If they could just speak up a little louder! He tilted his head, aiming his ear better in their direction.  
  
Arvin, it's been too long. If we're not careful he'll remember everything! Irina whispered sharply, a brown strand of hair falling over her ears.  
  
Don't worry, everything will continue on as planned. Vaughn quickly shut his eyes tightly, yet knew Sloane would be smiling smugly at this moment. We only need... a little bit longer to perfect it–  
  
But that's just it! Irina said loudly. Realizing her sudden uprising, she glanced back at Vaughn to make sure he was still sleeping. If this process doesn't speed up...  
  
It will.  
  
If he remembers...  
  
He won't, it will be too powerful. And then we'll escape. Everything will work out in the end. Why don't you trust this, Irina? Is it me that you don't trust.  
  
Of course not. It's the CI, I don't trust.  
  
They were moving towards the door at Vaughn's right. He closed his eyes comfortably; steadied his breathing; did whatever it took to look like he was sleeping. What about Sydney? Sloane inquired, stopping Irina in her tracks.  
  
What _about_ Sydney?  
  
She's CIA... Yet I thought you trusted her.  
  
Irina remained silent, scaring Vaughn with a mention of Sydney.  
  
Sydney.  
  
The one and only thought that made him think he'd survive. The only reason he didn't let himself die. The only reason of his existence...  
  
Why did Sloane bring up Sydney? He had to be careful not to let his breathing change. But, Sydney? What was Irina going to say?  
  
Irina finally said. I don't want you to bring Sydney into this now.  
  
All right, Sloane agreed, Later then?  
  
she answered mindlessly. Now, tell me more about Lima.  
  
Lima! So they were headed for Peru. Try to stay calm, he reminded himself.   
  
Ah, yes. It was one of Emily's favorite places to visit. The house had these beautiful ivory pillars with carvings from top to bottom, and of course the garden Emily loved. She could have spent all day there if she pleased. We... Sloane's voice eased away as he and Irina passed through the door and away from Vaughn._  
  
Suddenly a bright light stung his eyes as he awoke to find himself surrounded in thick beams of sunlight. Groggily, he pulled the covers over his head. No, it can't be time to wake up yet! Soon the strength came to take the covers off, and he realized that the sun never shone so brightly through the window when he woke up. He checked the alarm clock. Nine-thirty A.M.?  
  
_Lima!_ Now he had to get out of bed, get showered, dressed, and go to work. He was the only person in the CIA to know where Sloane was! This piece of information excited him, and had it not been so vital he would have wished to keep it to himself.  
  
But why was this dream he had the perfect one? The repeated dream he had was the same every night, only now elongated, but all in all similar. What would have triggered it? Sydney. Who else? Had there been one reason to remember anything that happened, Sydney was the reason.  
  
He slid his body out of the warm, soft covers and hurried to the shower (*pause for visual effect... ooh yeah*), then shaved and dressed in a normal black suit and tie. As he put the key in his car's ignition, he checked the clock. Ten o'clock. Kendall would be angry if he was ever this late with no reason. Most likely fired. Good thing he held one of the most important tidbits of information one could know.  
  
Sloane's location.  
  
Before he knew it he ran up the halls of the Joint Task Force Center, receiving odd stares from passersby. His shoes squeaked with an urgency that matched his own. He was a time bomb waiting to explode if he wasn't disarmed.  
  
He finally found Kendall discussing something with Agent Jack Bristow near his office. Plane... Lima... Sloane... Now! he exclaimed, out of breath.  
  
Why are you so late, Agent Vaughn? Kendall replied, ignoring Vaughn's initial gibberish.  
  
Vaughn allowed his breathy to level before proceeding to explain Dr. Kerr's procedure and the dream. He allowed every detail to slip from his mouth, except for the mention of Sydney. He couldn't do that in front of Jack. Finally, Kendall nodded. We'll assemble a team immediately, locate the house, keep it under surveillance. I'll go get Flinkman... and off he briskly walked.  
  
I'll go call Sydney... I'm quite certain she'd wish to join us on this mission.  
  
Vaughn soon found himself alone amongst a busy, bustling office. Apparently, word spread faster than a wildfire. Agents hurried along, ignoring whatever work they had before, only to pick up something new associated with Sloane. It was the opportunity everyone had been waiting for. Finally...  
  
Agent Vaughn! someone called. He turned around, to find Jack Bristow beckoning him into the usual meeting room. Once inside, Vaughn found many field agents collected together. This is the assembled team. Well, most of them. Sydney's on her way, and there are a few others.  
  
What about Alyssa? Who's staying with her?  
  
Will, most likely. Or... he cast Vaughn a quick glance, full of uncertainty.   
  
Vaughn kept his scowl to himself. He was all right with Will taking care of his daughter. Actually, Will would be a great baby sitter. But Corey... Corey was a man that drank too much. He hoped desperately Will would be caring for Alyssa. Not Corey. _Please_, not Corey...  
  
Director Kendall? Uh, sir? Marshall's voice interrupted his thoughts. We have the house under surveillance.  
  
Marshall led Kendall back to his computer to observe, and naturally, Vaughn and Jack followed with interest.  
  
We've confirmed that Mr. Sloane is indeed on location, and Irina Derevko was. However, she's... Not. Anymore, anyway.  
  
How do you know she was there in the first place? Jack asked, his eyebrow raised.  
  
Just look at those draperies. They scream Irina Derevko. You know, they have that I'm sophisticated but I could kill you' vibe. Jack stared back at Marshall with the same Yeah, anyway... You should, uh, start flying to Lima.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Sydney was on the other side of the plane. Ignoring him completely. It was driving Vaughn mad. How he wished they could talk, freely, about anything in the world like they used to. How he wished they could simply hold each other, kiss each other. Anything, really. Something they could do together...  
  
He didn't have the courage to walk up to her. If he could strike up any old conversation, he would have. But the stakes were too high for him to take the initiative. He rubbed his face, then massaged his temples. He had only been awake a few hours, yet the day had already begun to be stressful.  
  
He paused for a moment to think about his situation. _One step at a time_, he reminded himself. Number one: a dream. The dream that exposed Sloane's (and possibly) Irina's whereabouts. Number two: a plane ride. It wasn't life or death, it was only a plane ride. Yet it wouldn't seem nearly as dreadful if Sydney would talk to him. Number three: a mission. His first mission since his return. Not to mention his first time working with Sydney. Number four: they might finally be able to catch Sloane! The, perhaps, biggest capture in the history of the CIA.  
  
Vaughn looked back to where Sydney was sitting. Her legs were comfortably curled under a blanket, and her hair was pulled up into a messy bun. She wore a black, fitted shirt that emphasized the curves of her body, sending Vaughn's heart a flutter.  
  
Finally he forced himself to look away, out the window, where he saw below him the cities of Mexico. He fell into a trance where he slipped into memories of past missions, all of which involved Sydney.  
  
Soon, he felt a tapping on his shoulder. Vaughn turned to find Jack Bristow standing at his side. Through a glance, he noticed Sydney was not sitting across the aisle from him anymore. Would you come with me, Agent Vaughn? Jack asked calmly. Vaughn nodded and stood up, hoping he wasn't in any sort of trouble.  
  
Vaughn watched his feet as Jack led him to the front of the plane, where the feet of Vaughn's and Jack's met up with another pair of feet, clad in black boots. He looked up to find his vision graced with Sydney's presence. He looked nervously at Jack, a look of sheer confusion on his face. What the hell was Jack doing?  
  
I want you two to talk with one another. It's obvious that there's tension, and neither of you are getting off this plane until something is resolved. Vaughn now understood; he was taking the initiative. Good Jack.  
  
While Jack thought his plan would work, it obviously failed by the looming silence. Both Sydney and Vaughn looked to the ground, coughed, scratched their heads, but said nothing to one another.  
  
Jack rolled his eyes. Look. You are two of the best agents the Agency has ever seen, and when you're a team you're even better. If you don't break the ice, then you're putting our country at stake. Still, Sydney and Vaughn said nothing. Vaughn grew nervous. Jack was giving him the perfect chance... Why couldn't he take it? He wanted nothing more than to talk with her for the rest of their flight like they used to. Yet he had nothing to say to her. _No_, he told himself, _I have nothing I _can_ say to her. She's the one who should say something to me._ Sydney, why don't you tell Agent Vaughn about Alyssa, Jack continued. I'm sure he'd be interested. Vaughn nodded eagerly. Jack gave a kurt nod, turned, and headed back into the depth of the plane.  
  
So... What would you like to know about... our daughter? she asked slowly with caution.  
  
Anything and everything, he replied, the honest truth.  
  
Sydney raised her eyebrows and sat down by the window. she began, giving Vaughn enough time to sit down next to her, she's staying with Will right now. I usually leave her with him if I had to go somewhere.  
  
I thought you took an extended leave?  
  
I did. Sometimes I just had to get away. I – never mind. Um, she loves to eat Cheerios. She'd probably eat them all day if I let her. I have to take a bag of them everywhere we go; that, and her stuffed lion.  
  
The lion that she gave me?  
  
Sydney blushed slightly. Yes. We bought it at the zoo. Her favorite place to go is the zoo. It was one of her first words. She likes to watch the giraffes there.  
  
That giraffe in Santa Barbara... with the crooked neck. Has she seen it? Vaughn asked, a nervous smile escaping his face. Santa Barbara...  
  
No. Actually, I haven't been to Santa Barbara. I didn't go after... you disappeared...  
  
Silent relief.  
  
I hate to interrupt, Jack Bristow's voice sliced, but I need to speak with Sydney privately.  
  
Vaughn nodded and allowed Sydney to go with her father. He moved to the next seat by the window while the last minutes played over in his head. He and Sydney talked. Talked! Like normal people do. Not only were they talking, but they were in close proximity. His body settled merely a foot away from hers; lured by her sheer mysteriousness and captivated by it as well. Why, oh why was it impossible for them to kiss?   
  
When he could ponder this question no more, he headed back throughout the plane and took to seat next to a fretting Marshall. Vaughn learned that prior to leaving Los Angeles, Carrie told Marshall that she would like to have kids. His techie-friend's nervous ramblings were only so much he could take.  
  
He took this opportunity to think about what Sydney had said about Santa Barbara while Marshall rambled. So she hadn't taken a trip there after all. Maybe the great and powerful Corey didn't stand up to all Vaughn was worth.  
  
After that thought, Vaughn knew he was ready to finally face Sloane and take him down like he deserved. A new found strength empowered him to take control of the situation, and he could finally focus his anger in one direction. All he cared about was capturing the man that completely ruined his life.  
  
Not a moment to soon, the plane landed, and before he knew it a large team was assembled around the house, hidden amongst trees and other structures. Vaughn waited impatiently against a large stone fence by the East entrance while Marshall hacked into the Sloane's home surveillance.   
  
We have confirmation, Marshall said, that Sloane is on the premises. Status on Derevko, unconfirmed.   
  
Once the wires were cut and the coast was clear, several agents dashed from their hiding places to shoot the outside guards. When the guards fell to the pavement, it was the teams' cue to move in. One portion of the agents remained outside the house if, by some miracle, that Sloane should escape.  
  
As soon as Vaughn entered the house, something felt wrong. There existed an eery silence filling it's halls and filtering down the stairwells. He kept his gun pointed out in front of him as he moved swiftly from door to door. After much extensive searching, it was clear that Sloane was no where to be found on the main, second, or third floors. Several members of the teams each met.  
  
Could he have escaped somehow before we got here?  
  
No, absolutely not. Our cameras would have caught that.  
  
Yes, but our our cameras can be fooled.  
  
Not true in this case. There must be a secret room, or passageways in the house that he is taking. Alert the outside team to set up around the city, we don't know where exactly his exit point is.  
  
Vaughn once again scoured the second floor in search of hidden doors leading to secret rooms or hallways. It hadn't even been three minutes of searching when yells from downstairs sounded; they found the hidden door. Vaughn's team headed in, accompanied by Sydney's team, while Dixon's team stayed behind in the house for further inspection.  
  
Vaughn looked up and down the long hallway in front of him, dust misting through its core; only stirred by someone recently walking through it. Sloane had to have come this way, it was the only explanation. The team hurried down hall after hall, finding many hidden rooms or doors to other hallways. Even some doors led to stairs. Finally, the teams reached what seemed to be an intersection point for six main hallways, each branching out from a hexagonal commons.  
  
This could take hours.  
  
Are you kidding? This could take weeks to check it out completely.  
  
I propose we split into six groups, each tackle on main hallway at a time.  
  
There's not enough time. We'll have to...  
  
Vaughn's mind slipped from listening to the growing argument. A headache was setting in. If only he could get all the people around him to quiet down! Didn't anyone else care about this mission as much as he did? They only made his headache grow worse. He gently massaged his temples, pretending it helped. Meanwhile, he glanced at the others around him, hoping they would realize he wanted to listen and quiet down. However, no one around him was talking except for those involved in the argument. Then what was he hearing?  
  
A strange, lightheaded feeling swarmed his body and he lowered to the ground, falling deeper into the blackness that surrounded him...  
  
_Walking slower won't change your destiny, Agent Vaughn, Sloane's raspy voice echoed through an elegantly furnished house. He didn't know where he was, and frankly he didn't care. It was the first time he left the hospital bed; the first time free from the restraints; the first time to perhaps escape...  
  
He obeyed Sloane – despite his hatred for him – hoping that obedience would keep him away from the hospital bed for as long as he could. How he wished this would be his chance to escape; too bad his hands were cuffed and his feet chained.  
  
Where was he being led? What was his These thoughts sent fear down his spine, tingling through the tips of his toes. He tried to distract himself from it by inspecting his surroundings, however the thought haunted the back of his mind. He hadn't had a chance to see the house's exterior, nor did he see any windows. He had hoped he would find out where he was, but alas, he had no such luck.  
  
Vaughn tried to use other senses to figure out his surroundings. The air felt light and crisp against his lungs, and the only sound he heard was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway they were in. Soon they entered a room that appeared to be both an office and living room; it had a desk and file cabinets as well as a couch, chair, and roaring fireplace. Roaring? Sloane must have been here before Vaughn got here. Wait... Did he arrive here with Sloane? He couldn't much remember his arrival. Or maybe someone else had been here. Or perhaps that someone else was still here...  
  
Irina Derevko.  
  
He was so sure that she was there; he half expected her to be sitting on the sofa in front of the fireplace. But since she was not there, she could be wherever Sloane was taking him.  
  
Recognize your surroundings? he cackled, suggesting something. Could Vaughn have been here before? He shrugged off the thought. He would have remembered. Wouldn't he?  
  
He almost ran into Sloane, who stopped abruptly to fiddle with a piece of wall. _Why is he letting me see this?_ Vaughn wondered. _Doesn't he think I'll remember what he's doing?_ Sloane noticed Vaughn eying him closely, and simply chuckled to himself. May I remind you, as I have done each time we've been here, that you will not remember any of this.  
  
The statement shocked Vaughn. He'd been here before!? And not just once, but several times. He became confused. He tried desperately to remember why, mainly for the reason of defying Sloane. Soon he was led forward into the panel of wall Sloane had removed, and they found themselves looking down a long, dusty hallway. They passed many oak doors, all shut tightly and probably locked. Sloane finally turned to the right, and unlocked a door that led to a stairway. He led Vaughn down the stairs, and into another set of hallways. Vaughn gazed expectantly in every turn, hoping he would recognize something. But he saw nothing.  
  
They quickly approached a large hexagonal intersection of six main hallways, and he followed Sloane to the one on the farthest left. After that, it was only a few more hallways and a stairway or two when they reached their final destination.  
  
It looked like the room from a mad scientist's laboratory; the walls alone were frightening enough. They were a dark, gray stone, dripping with water droplets. The room was freezing, almost cold enough to see your breath. But by far, the most horrifying object of the room was located in its center; a long, leather padded bed with terrifying leather straps, above which sat the largest machine Vaughn had ever seen. The machine looked evilly silver and icy cold, with many dangerous buttons and screens, cranks and levers, and metal helmet hooked up with cords and electrodes. Electricity zapped between metal posts from the top of the machine, sending a horrid burnt smell through Vaughn's nostrils.  
  
He didn't have to ask what was going to happen to him. He knew he was the next contestant on the Price Is Right, and Sloane was simply waiting for him to come on down.'  
  
With a nervous gulp, Vaughn was led up to the bed in a slow trudge. Shakily, he lay down, his knuckles white from squeezing his hands together for so long. The helmet clasped under his chin with an echoing click, and Vaughn attempted to brace himself for what was coming.  
  
What he had imagined didn't compare with the pain he suddenly felt. Energy seared through his body like lightning in the sky; pain worse than anything he'd felt before; a prolonged agony he thought never would end.; a torture worse than Hell itself. His body was senseless to everything around him. He could no longer feel anything except the excruciating pulsation; there were no colors, no sounds, no leather bed beneath his back, not even the metal he should have tasted in his mouth. No time for questioning anything, no feeling enough to ask it to stop.  
  
But suddenly it did.  
  
Where was he? Why was he here? What the hell was on his head? Was it the reason his head ached to to end? Why was he strapped to a bed? Who did he hear stepping towards him?  
  
He never found out; a dark blindfold wrapped around his head, blocking everything from view. Vaughn lay on the bed in utter confusion, asking himself so many questions without answers. Why was his body throbbing in pain? Didn't he get into a car accident? Or could it be from the strange thing attached to his head?  
  
It gave him a headache to fully ponder his questions, so he tried to let his mind lapse into a ringing lull. He felt his body temperature slowly degrading and the feeling in his limbs returned. A slight pressure of fingertips lifted his shoulders off the bed, and soon his feet set on the floor. He took a few swaggering steps before reaching his equilibrium, but was quickly prodded out of the room. After getting used to walking again, his mind freed up to think about his previous questions. He scratched his forehead frantically. Where could he possibly be, and mostly, who was leading him? He wished with all his might he could remember something before waking up, yet the harder he thought the less details he could recall.   
  
The mysterious person led him through a maze of stairs and hallways, all while Vaughn trudged obediently beside them. After a while, he heard their footsteps echo and decided they must be in a larger room. He thought he heard whispers as well, but worried it may just be in his head. Soon he was forced into a sharp corner to the left, and then down another set of seemingly endless halls. Vaughn began to hear the whispers again, only louder. He caught pieces of a broken sentence, but the words escape route stuck out in particular.  
  
Suddenly he was shoved out of a nearby door and thrown to the cold dirt floor. Just as his trussed hands rose to his pounding head, he was lifted and tossed into what felt like the back of a van. As the wheels beneath him began to turn, he felt an urge to sleep..._  
  
His eyes popped open with a small yelp escaping from his mouth. Agents surrounded him and peered at him curiously. Sweat droplets trickled down his face as his heavy breathing slowly evened out.  
  
You okay? a fellow agent asked. You looked like you were having a seizure or something.  
  
was all Vaughn could manage to mumble. His head was still lost in the memory he had witnessed. _Oh God_, he realized. _Here. I was here_. I know where we need to go, he said confidently, thinking he would lead them to his torture chamber.  
  
What? How? several agents asked at once.  
  
I just... recalled a memory. Of being here. Just, uh, follow me. He slowly stood up from the floor and looked at the six hallways that surrounded the hexagonal intersection. Closing his eyes to see where Sloane led him, he envisioned a turn to the farthest left, and led the confused agents down that way.  
  
With every step, it appalled him that he recognized the exact doors and staircases. He finally reached the door to the torture chamber, and with twitching fingertips, his hand wrapped around the doorknob and pushed it open. With a deep sigh the room was empty, excepting a long, leather upholstered bed. The room itself was just as cold and dank as he remembered, yet lacked the large electrical machine that caused him the most intense pain of his life. He shuddered at the thought.  
  
Agents around him were severely confused. Why did Agent Vaughn lead them to this nearly empty room? He whispered something to himself and briskly walked through the crowds of people, making his way back towards the hexagon room. He didn't notice that Sydney's hand had brushed his arm, nor did he notice the worry on her face. The agents whispered amongst themselves, but still followed him through the endless maze of halls.   
  
Once Vaughn reached the hexagon, he took another sharp left and continued down the path he recognized despite the fact he never saw it. After a few minutes, he knew he was in the hall where he heard people whispering escape route. He paused outside of a single door, knowing in the back of his mind it was the door Sloane had shoved him out of. He turned to face his coworkers, and soon everyone silenced themselves. This... this is where Sloane shoved me outside, and where I was placed into a van, and eventually dropped in Taiwan. The other room was where they... tortured me, so to speak. Vaughn took a moment to stare boldly at the door before trying to open it. Alas, it was locked. I don't understand. It wasn't locked when –  
  
He was interrupted by a gunshot.  
  
Everyone heaved themselves into a doorway or any other nook they could find as hundreds more bullets came shooting out of behind doors and things further down the large hallway. It was Sloane, Vaughn knew, and he had numbers on them. Shortly, the bullets ran out, and it became an all out battle in the hallway; punching, fighting, kicking however they could to defeat one another. It seemed Sloane's men were taking a lead, with most of his men still intact. Vaughn grew slowly worried as he punched some guy in the jaw, and collided the man's head with the butt of his gun.   
  
Just then, Dixon's team arrived with more gun power than anyone could know. Vaughn whispered a thank you, and, out of breath, continued to beat the snot out of another of Sloane's men.  
  
All of Vaughn's anger from his recent memory, anger from being gone for two years, and anger from losing Sydney and Alyssa was taken out today. He fought like he'd never fought before; aimed his gun like he'd never aimed before; was willing to fight to the death if it meant Sloane would be behind bars.  
  
Dixon's team gave the CIA the exact edge they needed, and in no time Sloane had significantly fewer men. It was when Vaughn had emptied a gun Dixon had brought him that he spied Sydney down near the other end brutally fighting with someone. He watched for a moment in amazement; her swift moves and quick reflexes gave her brownie points, but the man she was fighting was physically stronger.  
  
Sloane. She was fighting Sloane.  
  
Vaughn called. You have to shoot him down there!  
  
We can't... They're moving to violently. We'd risk shooting Sydney by mistake.  
  
Vaughn sighed. He had to take this matter into his own hands. He looked around for something to do; Sloane had men practically guarding his fight with Sydney, so he couldn't simply run up and help her. If he shot at one of the guards, he really did have the chance of shooting Sydney. They'd have to find a way into one of the doors behind the guards.  
  
He noticed a few other agents talking about such. Follow me, Vaughn told them, though he had no idea where to go. He led them out of the battling hallway, back to the hexagon, and back to the house. If the door they pushed Vaughn out of led to the outside, then surely the other ones had to. They followed Vaughn out of the house as he carefully diagrammed the hallways that lay below on the streets and fields of Lima.  
  
As accurately as he could, he tried to recreate the path aboveground. They reached a field of wild flowers, below of which was the hexagon room. He took not a sharp left, but the next option and followed it back, taking turns where stairs or hallways would be. He finally announced they had to be just above the hallway where the agents and Sloane were.  
  
Vaughn found himself back near the house, actually, in the garden behind it. He glanced around quickly in every direction, attempting to remember exactly where the guards were; looking for a sign of a passageway down. He saw the dirt path driveway down the hill to their left, but he found nothing more.  
  
_Please_, he prayed, _let Sydney be alive._  
  
Then he spotted it: a simple mound under a bush. He rushed over to it and began to dig as fast as possible. Help me! he demanded, once he started to uncover something. We have to save Sydney.  
  
And get Sloane, someone else added.  
  
His mind was focused on Sydney alone, however. Determined to rescue her, he thought only of her life and not making himself look better. How was she doing down there? Was she still fighting him? It had been an awful long time. Had they decided to use the guns anyway? Could she have been... shot? He tried not to think of that, and only dug faster. Soon his knuckles scraped against wood and they discovered a slight ajar wooden trapdoor; a hidden ladder leading down below.  
  
He opened the door as wide as it would go before jumping down and landing with a smack on the floor. Picking himself up in a hurry, he followed it's one way path, which led to a spiral staircase. Not wasting any time, he took the steps by threes and twos. Finally, he came to a door. A single, oak door, behind which (hopefully) fought the woman he loved and the man he hated. He pressed his ear to the door and heard not one, but several groups still in combat. Confused, he scarcely cracked open the door as the other agents appeared behind him.  
  
The scene before him was barely recognizable from the last time he was in the hallway. There was rubble everywhere. The walls were cracked, the ceiling looked as if it might cave in, and dead or unconscious bodies lay everywhere. CIA agents had started to battle with Sloane's guards, and seemed to be doing successfully. And then there was Sydney...  
  
Still alive.  
  
Still fighting him.  
  
Blood leaked a deep red from the side of her head and arm. She was out of breath and losing energy fast. Weakened, she found herself slammed into a wall. Sloane reached for a gun from the floor...  
  
His fingers were mere centimeters away when Vaughn sprang through the door, taking a giant leap and tackling Sloane to the ground. He pinned his arms to the pebbly floor. Surrender now, you son of a bitch! he hissed through gritted teeth. Other agents soon surrounded them; they had beaten the guards. Dixon hurried up to them and tightened handcuffs around Sloane's wrists. Good work, Agent Vaughn, he said, pulling Sloane to his feet and leading him away with other armed agents, all while Sloane was too tired to fight back.  
  
Vaughn stood up and brushed off his pants, noticing Sydney resting in the corner, still catching her breath. Her eyes looked up just as he looked at her, locking into each other's field of view. He caught her eye for once! Her perfect, round, brown eyes, staring into his. Not passed them or by them, but _into_ them. He felt like a lovesick teenager, frozen to the spot. He smiled at her, letting the fact that they defeated Sloane settle in. And for the first time since his return, she smiled back at him; a full on dimpled smile as they mentally bonded over their mutual triumph.  
  
  
  
  
A/n: SO SORRY I HAVEN'T UPDATED IN A LONG TIME! And I'm sorry if the mission was disappointing, I hate writing missions and admit I'm not very good at them. Hopefully you'll all still **review**! Hasn't the show gotten exciting lately? Syd beating up British Bitch Barbie, her dream about kissing Vaughn, her actually kissing Vaughn (**!**), the Room 47... I love it all!  
~Whitelighter Enchantress


	8. Hey La, Hey La

Chapter 8: Hey La, Hey La  


  
A/n: Thanks for the reviews, as always. Um, not much to say. I'm ticked off that there's no new Alias until January 11, but at least I have winter break now. I guess I should warn you that Will's seems out of character to me in this chapter, but tell me what you think (I'm always way too critical of my stuff...)  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Alias, but if I were JJ I would _not_ have Will take advantage of our fave ex-double agent...  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Since their return from the island, work went surprisingly slow. There seemed to no longer be a need to work floating throughout the atmosphere; almost as if all the roots of problems had been solved. But of course, they basically had been. Each agent of the CIA knew that if only one person deserved the death penalty in the whole world, then that man should have been Arvin Sloane, ruiner of countless lives and Number One Bad-Guy.  
  
All that week at work, Vaughn finally felt his muscles less tense, and sat comfortably at his desk once again. He could look agents in the eye and flash them an encouraging smile. He started to rebuild a name for himself around the office, a name he was proud of. However, he knew he shouldn't relax for too long, considering Irina Derevko remained missing. This was simply... the eye of the storm; the calm between two battles.   
  
At the end of Friday, he decided to treat himself to dinner at Francie's restaurant, simply for his mind to fully realize the impact of Sloane's arrest. He sat at his table, smiling at the waitress in gratitude.   
  
He picked away at the remnants of his meal, thinking about today at work. He had sat casually at his desk – not doing anything in particular – but making it seem as though he was working on debrief reports. He occasionally glanced up to inspect the office, feeling important to know what went on around him. Soon Dixon passed by his desk, brushing against the end of it (probably to scare Vaughn back into working). Vaughn watched out the corner of his eye as Dixon approached Sydney.  
  
Sydney, the only person in the office to remind him of everything he lost. Sydney, the only person to drive him crazy by her looks alone. Sydney, the only person he ever truly loved...  
  
She had been sitting gracefully at her desk, tucking stray hairs behind her ear when Dixon sat down at a chair in front of her. They exchanged few words, none that Vaughn could hear, before he handed her a slip of paper. Sydney looked up at him as he stood, slowly stepping away, with a look of fear, curiosity, and bewilderment in her eyes.  
  
Now, Vaughn reminded himself, had this happened two years prior to today, he would have moseyed towards her way with investigative intentions, asked her about the paper, and perhaps wrapped his arms around her body, warm and comforting to the touch. However, that particular morning or any mornings over the past few weeks, everything he did around Sydney he did precariously. He watched intently as she gingerly fingered the parcel, threatening to set it on her desk, yet yearning to tuck into her pocket. Finally, her eyes flashed surrender and she crumpled the paper, tossing it into a nearby trash can.  
  
_Why didn't she read the note?_ Vaughn wondered then, and now as well. What could have been in the note to make her disregard it? Who could it have been from? He had almost wanted to dig through the trash and read her note, but couldn't bring himself to do so, finding the rudeness in his decision.  
  
For a while, he gave up watching Sydney to accomplish real work – he really did have debrief reports to do, after all – only to later notice her staring at the trash can. Vaughn licked his lips in anticipation; she couldn't fight the temptation, he knew, sparking excitement throughout his body. Why did he care so much about what the note said? He didn't know. But he wanted her to read it; to see emotion from her again. Soon her fingers twitched from her lap, and her arm outstretched, allowing her fingers to grasp the note again. She held it a foot from her face at first, before she couldn't stand it anymore and she unfolded the note.  
  
Vaughn sat on the end of his seat, watching her eyes scatter about the page. She squinted through most of it, then widened her eyes in shock. In one quick motion, she crumpled the paper into a ball, throwing it at the trash can and storming off into the midst of a herd of agents; breathing heavily, Vaughn could tell. Had a growling stomach not interrupted his thinking, he almost would have snuck over an stolen the note. But no, he forgot that he shouldn't. It was like reading someone's mail, and he refused to do that.  
  
Drinking the last of his wine at the restaurant that once belonged to Francie, he continued to fantasize about the contents of the note. Vaughn? Hey, how are you? Vaughn looked up hurriedly, somewhat disturbed at being shaken from his thoughts. It was Will. He brushed his blonde hair back with his hand and took a seat across from Vaughn at the table. Vaughn smiled casually at him, only being polite. Sorry about last time we talked, he continued, you know, when you met Alyssa and all...  
  
Vaughn mumbled. He was suddenly reminded of the many mornings two years ago, waking up with only Will home. He remembered their initial awkward silence, and later their sometimes deep conversations. So how have you been?  
  
Good, lately, he mused. Syd and Alyssa have been great. Hey, he said after a slight pause, I know you probably haven't really talked to Sydney, so, uh, I'll just ask if you want some pictures of Alyssa?  
  
His eyes lit up. It surprised him that the thought of pictures hadn't crossed his mind. Of course he wanted pictures! For one, they would brighten his dark safe house tremendously, and secondly, he could finally become the proud papa – showing off shots of his daughter – he once hoped he'd become. Maybe setting a gorgeous framed picture on his desk was exactly was Sydney needed to see in order to realize how her photo belonged there too. It was only a matter of time...  
  
Vaughn's devious plotting was broken when Will handed him a picture, softly dog-eared in one corner. This is the only picture I have on me right now, he apologized. I can probably get some more to you later.  
  
He nodded and grabbed hold onto the picture, lifting it up to his face. It was Sydney holding a newborn Alyssa, still in the hospital. Sydney looked... well, amazing as usual. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail with many stray strands framing her face. Alyssa was asleep for the picture; with thin, soft looking fluff of hair on her head and pudgy cheeks, as most babies have. She was the most beautiful child Vaughn had ever seen. He found himself fascinated was Sydney's eyes, though; something only Vaughn would notice. A façade, he was positive, of happiness, illuminated by love nevertheless, but their usual twinkle lacked.   
  
It was Vaughn she lacked.  
  
He could tell absolutely everything she thought that day from that single picture alone. And he wanted nothing more than to jump into the picture and take Sydney into his arms; hold her and never let go...  
  
I take it you haven't heard about Corey, either, Will said, clasping his hands.  
  
What about Corey? Vaughn replied back, a little too quickly than he should have.  
  
Will looked around as if anyone who could hear him cared. Syd told him she wanted a break.  
  
_Yes, yes, yes!_ Vaughn's heart proclaimed. This was the best news he'd heard in a long time. Had he not been in a public place or in front of Will, he would have stood from his chair valiantly, raised his arms in victory, and proceeded to dance uncontrollably. Yes, dance uncontrollably. That was how much this gesture meant.  
  
_But wait a minute..._ his brain countered, _wouldn't she have already told you if she was done with Corey? It is only a break' after all. If she was truly done with Corey, if things were really over between them, then would she have not come running back to me, arms wide open?  
  
Damn, damn, damn!_  
  
She came home one day after work, just really stressed out, Will continued, completely unaware of Vaughn's mental breakdown. I tried to help her sort things out, and I think the break with Corey is part of it, now.  
  
_Okay? Was that really all I could say? I'm such an idiot sometimes._ Why wasn't he somersaulting through the air? Oh, right, cause Sydney simply was tired of Corey, as she was probably tired of Vaughn as well.  
  
If she was playing such stubborn games with him, then he was going to do likewise. Except he knew in his heart that he didn't want to; could never intentionally hurt her. And his heart told him to have faith, something he had lost long ago.  
  
He mumbled his thanks to Will for the picture (and information), and Will smiled and left Vaughn to be alone once again with his thoughts. One more time, he inspected the photograph of Sydney and his daughter before pulling out his wallet from his back pocket. He hesitated to slide the picture in, and made a last second decision to hold onto the picture for a while. Setting the picture in front of him, he paid his bill never removing his eyes from it. As he left the restaurant, safely gripping the picture in his fingertips, he smirked smugly to himself, proud of his little secrets. And the note remained forgotten...  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
_Now to find the perfect place_, Vaughn wondered, staring in wonderment at his newly desk. It hadn't been cleaned, per se, so much as shoved together in an organized manner. The perfect place that he had to find was for a new picture frame, which held a new picture, one of his two loves. Once finding the perfect space – one from where he could rest his eyes without any trouble – he set the picture frame down carefully and took his seat, never letting his eyes leave the photograph.  
  
Hey buddy, what're you up to? Eric Weiss's voice clamored through the surrounding area.  
  
Vaughn mumbled, forcing himself to tear his eyes away. Hey, um, Eric? he asked awkwardly.  
  
  
  
Do you and Sydney ever... talk?  
  
Well, it's kind of hard if we don't considering I couldn't do my job –  
  
No, I mean really talk.  
  
Weiss nodded in understanding. Do you want my help with something? he asked, a smirk emerging from it's hold. Cause, you know, I heard the elevator was going to break down when you just happened to be on it with Sydney, he added with a wink.  
  
Vaughn laughed but shook his head. He quietly explained to his friend that he only needed to talk to her with no interruptions. An empty room would suffice, and a way to lure Sydney in would be Weiss's part.  
  
It wasn't until the next day that Vaughn was ready to put his plan into action. Waiting impatiently behind an open door, he heard Weiss call Sydney's name. Syd, hey, could you help me in here with these files? Thanks. As he entered the room, he purposely brushed up against the door, squishing Vaughn into the wall. Sydney soon followed.  
  
Everything Vaughn wanted, needed, lived for depended on this moment. There was no time to worry. There was no time to think about what to say. He just had to go for it. All he could think about as she walked through the door were those looks; the times when he would just miss her gaze. She stared at him a lot. More than he knew she did, but he would never catch her doing it. She would look him in the eye again, he vowed.  
  
Suddenly, when Sydney was leaning over the table inspecting the papers, Weiss winked in Vaughn's general direction and slowly tiptoed backwards towards the door, quietly whistling a familiar tune. Eric, what _are_ these? she could barely ask before he turned and ran out the door, Vaughn stepping out to close the door and seal the only exit. Let me out, she demanded softly.  
  
I think we need to talk about Alyssa. He wasn't moving anytime soon.  
  
I don't think there's anything to talk about. Now, please, let me through. He noticed in particular how her hair was so perfect today – just the way he loved it – swaying down to tangle your fingers in, straight until the slightly curved tip to outline along her shoulders... she began sternly.  
  
he interrupted, I won't let you through. But there certainly is a lot _I_ can think of to talk about, actually. He opened his mouth, ready to spill the monologue he had been working on since first saw Alyssa. Sydney wouldn't know what was coming... Sydney, ever since my father's death I have wanted nothing more than to give to my children everything that I missed. It's always been my dream to just... relive our moments together with my son or daughter, and also to create memories of things we never did. I want my own memories, don't you understand? Alyssa needs her own memories.   
  
He paused, thinking of something utterly insane and gave a slight chuckle aloud. What if I were to die in the line of duty, he mused, now realizing that his idea was not so insane, and Alyssa had nothing of me? _Nothing_. I at least had eight years. I don't want to do that to my child; I couldn't do that to them. I want to be a part of her life, please, just let me. And what about money? You can't raise a child on your salary alone –  
  
We're okay on money, she muttered, glaring at him, her eyebrows furrowed.  
  
An easy rest slipped in as Vaughn allowed his words to sink into Sydney's mind. But soon, his thoughts could not restrain. What are you going to tell her when she asks about what you do for a living? Are you just going to say that you're a secret agent for the CIA, traveling to foreign lands every week and risking your life as well? Are you planning on telling her about how her Grandma Bristow murdered her Grandpa Vaughn? Or were you just not going to mention it? Because if she isn't going to have a dad, she might as well not have a grandpa either.  
  
she urged, closing her eyes.  
  
You may not think Alyssa needs me, he concluded, but I need her. I need you.  
  
Sydney's eyes opened, and slowly made their way up from the floor to Vaughn's gaze. A screaming silence settled as their eyes penetrated one another's, searching deeper and deeper into their souls; one true gateway to profound venturing of their hearts. Vaughn couldn't stop himself, though neither could Sydney. The air, it seemed, pulled at their lungs, drawing every breath out and leaving them light headed. Why is that picture on your desk? she asked soft and breathily, finally blinking.  
  
The broken eye contact made his eyes sting and water slightly. Will gave it to me. I look at that picture and I feel like I was there. All I have to do is look at your eyes... I see your love for Alyssa, and your pregnancy, labor, the birth. It all reflects in them. But you were scared, and... and confused. He cocked his head a little to the right. You're still scared and confused, I see it.  
  
She edged closer to Vaughn and the door, gaining composure with each inch. Standing with her full height, she demanded, Let me out. Vaughn waited a few hopeful seconds before his hand twisted the door knob and he stepped aside, letting the sounds of the busy office ring in their ears. Sydney rushed out of the cracked door. We don't need you, Vaughn, she told him, her arm brushing against his sleeve.  
  
Weiss sat right outside the door, sipping at his coffee. My boyfriend's back, and there's gonna be trouble. Hey la, hey la, my boyfriend's back! he sang triumphantly.  
  
Shut up, Eric, both angry agents yelled at him. Sydney stormed off into the depths of the office, leaving Vaughn in the now empty room to deal with Weiss.  
  
That went... well? Weiss asked with great caution.  
  
Vaughn leaned hopelessly against the wall. I'm a failure.  
  
Oh, I wouldn't say that.  
  
You didn't hear what she said to me... That's it, I'll never see my daughter, I'll never be a father –  
  
She has to be lying! There's no way she would just blow you off.  
  
Yeah? Well, why else would she say that to me? He looked at Weiss for an answer, but when it was apparent that he didn't have one, Vaughn shook his head and decided to leave for the day. This work environment was too much for him to handle any longer; he had to get away.  
  
He knew there had to be a way to make Sydney change her mind. He couldn't just let them walk out of his life. No, letting go of the them was not an option. Thinking on the spur of the moment, he dialed Sydney's number on his cell phone, and began to drive in the direction of her house.  
  
a deep voice answered from the other end of the conversation. Damn, it was Will.  
  
Hi, this is Vaughn. I need to talk to Sydney, but she probably won't want to speak with me.  
  
Brief silence. Well, she isn't home yet. Why won't she talk to you? he wanted to know instead. Vaughn sighed. Must he really explain their whole fight to Will? He did anyway, despite his yearning to talk to Sydney. After a long explanation, Will replied with heavy breathing. I think you're right about her being confused, he stated, at last. She has to have some feelings for you still, I mean, you're the father of her child!  
  
_God I hope she still has feelings for me_, he prayed. When do you think she'll get back?  
  
It's hard to say, Will replied. Sometimes after work she just likes to get away. I've never asked her where she goes.  
  
Vaughn wiped his hand down his face, and hoped Will wasn't looking outside his apartment. He was parked right outside in the street, checking to make sure Sydney really wasn't home. Which she wasn't. Thanks anyway, Will. He hung up, and began to drive home. Was this the end? Did he really have to give up?  
  
No.  
  
He wouldn't relent; he would win Sydney back and gain Alyssa as well. Nothing could stop him.  
  
Because tomorrow he was following Sydney home and they would have to talk.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
He slammed the car door shut, and slowly made his way closer to Sydney. She knew he was behind him, she knew he had followed her in his car, yet she made no attempt to escape. Vaughn looked around at his surrounding atmosphere; they were at the pier. He should have known this was where she would go. Sydney, who leaned on the railing, let out a shaky sigh. I knew you'd follow me here today, after Will told me you called.  
  
Why didn't you just talk to me at work?  
  
She shrugged. I don't know. I couldn't, I guess.  
  
Carefully, he inched in proximity to her, closing the gap between them with each step. And she didn't move away as he neared! He was afraid to get too close, however, fearing she'd run away. Look, I just want to be part of my daughter's life.  
  
I know, she said simply. Vaughn opened his mouth to add more, but Sydney stopped him. No, please, listen to what I have to say. He eyed her oddly. What could she possibly have to say to him? Bad news? Good news? Yelling? But something in her voice sparked a keen interest, and soon he leaned onto the railing, angling his body to enjoy the view which included Sydney. I owe you the biggest apology. I should have never kept you away from Alyssa. We should have talked about it a long time ago, and I've just been too... scared to do it.  
  
Yesterday you pointed something out to me that I've refused to admit to myself for ages, she continued. That I'm just as scared and confused as I was after you disappeared. And it's the truth, I really am. I thought I was okay after I met Corey; I thought I had finally started to move on. But then they called and told me you were alive... She paused, reminiscing in the memory. After a moment she shook her head and forced herself to continue. You had died... and I had loved you so much. It took me so long to get over you, and even longer to admit that I should move on. So when you came back, I just got confused again. But, Vaughn, those feelings are returning. Slowly, but they're there.  
  
Vaughn could hardly believe his ears. Sydney had loved him? And she still might? He must be dreaming. It was all a dream, it had to be. But a crisp, spring wind blew across their cheeks and Vaughn felt the sting. This was no dream, but reality at its fullest.  
  
he said, hoping to finish his statement. But he was speechless. How does one respond to that?  
  
Luckily, Sydney saved him from any embarrassment. I really do want you to be part Alyssa's life. Which is why I'm asking you to move in.  
  
  
  
Move in with Alyssa, Will, and me. Was she serious? He met her gaze, strong and true. She jested, not. I really think the sooner you and Alyssa are together, the better.  
  
_Not to mention the more time I spend with you..._ He didn't finish his thought. All he had to do was picture his old relationship with Sydney and he knew exactly what he wanted. Okay. I'll do it.  
  
You will? she asked, making sure her ears hadn't deceived her.  
  
I'll move in with you.  
  
A smile grew from Sydney's face, small at first, but then bigger and bigger, until finally she picked up her hand and rested it on top of Vaughn's. Shivers tickled down his spine at her touch, a feeling he had waited too long to feel. His life had changed dramatically in a matter of minutes. He had gone from sad, lonely, and a failure to the happiest man alive. He would be living with Sydney and Alyssa! Could life be any better?  
  
_It could_, he remembered. She and Corey were done, finito, over! It would only be a matter of time before he and Sydney were back to normal, he expected. They could talk and laugh again, and perhaps hug and kiss later too. He would ask her many questions, as she probably would also, and would be together for hours on end. His new life would be excellent.  
  
But he couldn't help but wonder, what brought on the sudden change in Sydney?  
  
  
  
A/n: If that sounds like a cliffhanger, it very well might be. I hope you liked this fluff-ness at the end, because I really enjoyed writing it. I missed it dearly. Please **review** and tell me what you think! Oh, and I hate to break it to you but there are only two chapters left for this I believe. Don't hold me to that, though, I could be completely lying.  
~Whitelighter Enchantress


	9. Unrequited Love, Part I

Chapter 9: Unrequited Love, Part I  
  


A/n: Yes, I'm pulling out the two parter, if any of you noticed the title. By the way, thanks for the reviews, you know how I love them! Hmmm I don't know about this chapter. I don't seem to like parts of it very much. But oh well. Tell me what you think, guys!  
  
I've decided I want a theme song for every chapter (just go with it, I'm insane). Some of them won't have anything to do with the chapter, but are just good songs in general. But whatever... Theme Song: Sympathy by Goo Goo Dolls  
  
Disclaimer: All JJ's except for Alyssa and Corey, as usual. You can have Corey if you want him. He's such a pain in the ass sometimes, though.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Vaughn grew steadily nervous as the day dwindled to a close. He wanted to get out of work, but at the same time wished he had to stay forever. Today was the day he would be moving into Sydney's apartment. Not only that, but Will wouldn't be living with them. And that just happened to be another big thing: Will was moving out. Completely out! Meaning it would just be him, Syd, and Alyssa...  
  
Was he the reason Will was moving out? He certainly hoped not. He would hate to kick out someone he now considered a friend just because of unrequited love... It didn't seem right. Vaughn knew that Will already was thinking about moving out before Sydney invited Vaughn to live with her, but hopefully Will had found a place to live by then.  
  
He drummed his fingers in a compulsive manner, finding comfort in the rhythm of his beats. Letting his mind wander, he found himself reminiscing in his old life with Sydney. He recalled several times they had skated on the ice; he tried to teach her hockey. Almost chuckling out loud, he remembered when she took her first shot, how she used too much arm strength and slipped completely onto her backside. Immediately he had rushed to her aid, and treated her pain and embarrassment with tons of precious kisses around her face.  
  
Her gorgeous face; with her beautiful, brown eyes and perfect nose to match. She had such a natural smile, and, when full dimpled, could melt his heart and make him go weak in the knees...  
  
  
  
He snapped out of his daydream. Yeah, Eric, what's up? he asked, blinking a few times.  
  
You finished with that debrief statement yet? Vaughn nodded. Despite his being distracted all day, he had managed to get some work done. He handed it to Weiss, but instead of taking the document and leaving, he took a seat across from Vaughn. he said, lowering his voice, I'm glad that things are finally starting to work out between you and Sydney, but don't you think you might be rushing things?  
  
Come on, Weiss, that's not –  
  
That's not what? True? Then explain to me why she wouldn't even give you the time of day three days ago when now you're moving in with her.  
  
Vaughn was speechless. This from Weiss? It was crazy... He was the one who tried to help him win Sydney back, anyhow. I still love her, you know that. And, well, I think our relationship is finally taking its turn back to where it was before. While Vaughn believed that would end their conversation, Weiss stared back at him unconvinced. I'm a big boy, I can make my own decisions.  
  
I know, I know. I'm just looking out for you. But just give it a little extra thought. Is it really what you want right now?  
  
Vaughn's eyes immediately traced to the photograph sitting on his desk. he finally answered, It's what I need.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Vaughn's knuckles tightened on his suitcase full of clothes as he knocked on the door to Sydney's apartment. _This is awkward_, he thought. _ I'll need a key. Again_.  
  
Soon the door swung open, revealing a casually smiling Sydney with Alyssa resting on her hip. Sydney looked comfortable in charcoal gray sweatpants and a pink hooded sweatshirt, while Alyssa donned light pink pajamas. Alyssa, who at once recognized the man standing outside the door, squealed in delight and threw her arms up happily.  
  
While boosting Alyssa up her side, Syd's other hand tightened her messy pony tail. You're going to have to sleep on the couch for tonight, she admitted finally, opening the door wider to allow him entrance. It turns out Will's not moving out until tomorrow. Sorry.  
  
That's... okay, he replied slowly, looking around for a place to set his bag. He settled for a spot near the end of the couch, near where Donovan lay sleeping. The dog let out a soft growl, clearly unhappy with the leather-baggage disturbance, but relaxed when Vaughn gave him an encouraging scratch behind the ears.  
  
Just make yourself comfortable, Sydney said, setting Alyssa onto her feet, but still holding her hand. There's food in the fridge, and you know where everything else it. Not much has changed around here. Vaughn nodded as Sydney let go of Alyssa's hand. The young girl shot off behind the couch, and quickly returned with a present for her father. Hiding it timidly behind her back, she giggled, then presented a large stuffed lion to him.  
  
Vaughn couldn't help but smile, remembering his first meeting with Alyssa. She had done the same thing with the same toy. Graciously, he kneeled down and took the toy into his hands, but as soon as the toy was gone, her whole body shook on a yawn.  
  
Sydney checked her watch. I probably should get her to bed... It's way past her bedtime. Come on, Lyssa. She picked her up, and disappeared behind a corner. Vaughn sighed and leaned against the back of the couch. With everything he said or did, he felt a degree of weirdness. Knowing he would feel this way for a long time if he didn't say anything, he decided he must talk to Sydney. Maybe Weiss actually gave good advice after all.  
  
She soon returned with her hands settling into the deep pocket of her sweatshirt. Want anything to drink? she offered, heading around the bar into the kitchen. He politely declined, but followed her idly to the kitchen.  
  
Syd, can I ask you a question?  
  
She had opened the refrigerator door, but closed it abruptly. She turned.  
  
I just want to know why you've changed all of a sudden. You're talking to me almost normal, you look at me again, you invited me to _move in with you_. What happened?  
  
Sydney looked speechless. She crossed her arms, and opened her mouth to say something yet nothing emerged. Finally when she took a deep breath and opened her mouth, she was interrupted by the front door opening.  
  
Great news, I got to leave the restaurant early, Will's voice echoed through the halls. He walked into the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator door looking for something to drink.  
  
Um, Will, can we have a moment alone? Sydney asked, referring to herself and Vaughn.  
  
Will stared blankly. Oh, I'm sorry. Sure, I'll just go finish packing up my stuff.  
  
Sydney gave him a slight smile as he left the kitchen as quickly as he had entered it. She took a moment to reflect on what she was going to say before. There were several things that factored into my decision. Part of it was Will... He made me see how I was really treating you. And I apologize for not telling you about Alyssa or Corey. It was Will's idea that you should move in, actually...  
  
My dad also made me see it... We had a very emotional talk about, well, my mother. I'm not sure if I should be saying this to you, but he told me about how it felt to lose my mother. And how it felt when he knew she was alive, and... his _feelings_.  
  
But the night after you cornered me in that office, the day before you followed me to the pier... That's what made me see. I have two picture frames on the table in my bedroom. One is of Danny, Will, and Francie, and the other is of you and me. Alyssa wouldn't sleep, so I was walking around with her for a while, and I ended up taking her in there. Sydney's eyes wandered down the hall to her room. She was being fussy... She refused to close her eyes even though all she wanted to do was sleep. I sat down with her on the side of my bed and she started looking at the pictures. I know she recognized Will in the first picture because she smiled at it. Then she saw the one with both of us and she pointed her finger at it. She looked at me and said... she said... Sydney blinked rapidly for a moment before looking up into Vaughn's eyes. Vaughn, she said dada.' I wasn't even thinking of her though all of this. All this time I only thought of my problems when I didn't let my own daughter have a say in this. How could I have let myself done that?  
  
Vaughn was at a loss for words. Alyssa knew who he was... That's incredible! And she had the power to persuade her mother. She recognized me from the picture and called me dada? He seemed to still be stuck on that moment.  
  
Sydney, however, did not. I owe you so much, and I can only keep apologizing to you forever. I can't believe some of the things I said to you, the things I did. I'm a horrible person for it.  
  
Syd, it's okay.  
  
No, it's not okay, she interrupted. But I'll make it up to you.  
  
For a while, he stared unblinkingly at her, not sure of what to say next, as she did the same. Soon Will yelled from down the hall. Can I come out now?  
  
She broke eye contact. In a minute, Will, she shouted back, then turned to Vaughn. I just have a question for you. When I asked if you would move in... Did you answer yes on the spur of the moment? Because if you did I'd understand if you don't really want to move in –  
  
No, Syd, he stopped her, I really want to do this. I need to build a relationship with my daughter. And. Rebuild one with you. That's important to me. His legs felt like jelly as he responded.  
  
Yet she gave a small smile. She leaned her head over the bar. :Will, it's all right to come out now.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
That night, Vaughn had trouble falling asleep. It wasn't that the couch was uncomfortable, because it was quite comfy. And it wasn't that his dog's snoring kept him awake, because he still blocked it out. It was, however, that he was in Sydney's apartment. How was he still in shock? That couldn't be all of it. His mind raced from thought to thought in a wild jungle of memories...  
  
_Vaughn, she said _  
  
His daughter knew. Sydney knew his daughter knew. _Their_ daughter. He wished he could describe his current feelings. Was it joy and happiness? Was it confusion? Forgiveness? After a brief moment of thought, he settled on relief; satisfied to know his daughter couldn't grow up without him.  
  
But of course she wouldn't, he remembered, since he now lived with her.  
  
He shook his head. This day was too crazy for him. First with Weiss yelling at him, then with moving in, finding out about Sydney's decision, and lastly the thing about Alyssa. Finally, he sighed, sitting up on the couch. He wrapped a soft, fleece blanket around his legs and gave a snoring Donovan a good scratch behind the ears. Leaving the blanket behind, he went into the kitchen to get himself a drink of water when he heard a soft whimpering coming from down the hall. He paused, listening to the noise in detail.  
  
Vaughn followed it, and quickly discovered himself just outside Alyssa's room; Francie's old room. The door was cracked open slightly, just enough for him to the see the yellow glow of a night light from the side of the room. Opening the door all the way, he found his daughter standing in her crib, looking curiously at the door.  
  
So you couldn't sleep either, huh? Vaughn whispered, stepping inside. She replied with a deep gaze into her father's eyes, the ones identical to her own. You at least look tired. She cocked her head to the side. Alyssa Michaela Vaughn, he said out loud to himself for the first time. I think I like that. Come here. He gently picked her up into his arms and allowed her head to rest against his shoulder. Her forehead set perfectly in the curve from his shoulder to his neck, and she sighed in the comfort of his scent. I think there's some serious things we need to talk about. But not about boys, because, well I don't think either of us are ready to talk about that, he chuckled to himself. Your mom was apologizing to me earlier, and now that I've had time to think about it, I'm the one who owes an apology. To you, Alyssa. Alyssa Michaela Vaughn...  
  
I'm sorry I wasn't there when you were born. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you had your first bath. I'm sorry I wasn't there when you took your first steps. I'm sorry I wasn't there for your first word. I'm sorry I wasn't there on your first birthday. I'm sorry you had to live so long without knowing I existed. His voice cracked in the whisper. I'm sorry _I_ had to live so long without knowing you existed. I'm sorry you had to know me through a picture on your mother's table. I'm sorry _I_ could only know you through a picture on my desk. I'm sorry I wasn't there to play with you, or hold you, or rock you to sleep. But I'm here now, and like your mom said to me, I'm going to make it up to you. I promise that, my little angel.  
  
She lifted her head and rested it against his cheek, letting him feel her silky, soft hair along his skin. He cradled her head in his hand and kissed the top of her head a few times, slowly beginning to rock his body back and forth. As he stroked her hair, he quietly started to hum an old tune his mother used to sing to him when he was a young child. The humming soon turned to song, and in a whisper the French lyrics danced their way into Alyssa's head, lapsing her body into comfort and sleep. He rocked and sang, rocked and sang for a while longer, not knowing that Sydney stood silently in the hall listening to his song and his apology before it.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
As the morning light beamed through the vertical blinds in the living room, they stung Vaughn's green eyes. He blinked a couple of times before turning away and burying his face into the couch's corner, tightening the grip on the fleece blanket around his body. His forehead throbbed still from the bright light of the room; he had not yet gotten enough sleep. It was hard enough to fall asleep last night anyway...  
  
Was last night a dream? His apology to Alyssa?  
  
_It couldn't have been_, he argued back. It was too real, the love for his daughter too real, his words to her too true. He recalled that he could have danced with Alyssa in his arms for hours more, only to let her sleep in her crib when he knew she was asleep for good. He had stood for a moment and watched her sleeping form; her chest rising and falling in a steady undulation. After a while, he settled into the large, comfy armchair in the corner of the room, and could have fallen asleep there had he not decided he should move back to the couch. He blew her a kiss, and returned to his makeshift bed, and suddenly sleep found him.  
  
Forgetting about the sunlight – lost in his memory – he turned back over on the couch and was immediately blinded in a flash of light. But quickly it went away and he seemed to be in a shadow. Curious, he slowly opened his eyes to find the face of a young, green eyed girl staring back at him, their noses inches apart.  
  
Bonjour, mon petit ange, he said, sitting up and lifting her into his lap.  
  
She smiled, and exclaimed, Yum yum!  
  
Yum yum?  
  
That means she wants breakfast, came Sydney's sugary voice from behind his back. He twisted his neck around and found her carrying a box; the tips of her slightly curled hair bouncing of it's cardboard flaps. Will and I need to run his last boxes over to his new place before the movers get here. Do you mind whipping her up something?  
  
Not at all, he replied, bouncing her on his knee.  
  
she smiled. See you later then.  
  
He stared at his daughter with his eyebrows furrowed as they heard Sydney open and close the door. Um, let's go to the kitchen... he swooped her to his right side and stood up, heading for the kitchen. He opened a few cupboards and the refrigerator with uncertainty, then he stopped in the center of the kitchen and looked blankly at Alyssa. The only thing I know you like to eat is Cheerios. And it looks like we've run out completely. So I guess since Sydney barely has any food in her house, and since I can only find ingredients for this particular meal, I'm making us some pancakes. And not_ just_ pancakes, but my super duper special colored pancakes. How does that sound?  
  
She replied with a muffled giggle.   
  
Close enough. You can be Daddy's little helper, he said, smiling to his reference as Daddy.   
  
He set Alyssa down and began to pull out a mixing bowl and pan for pancakes. But she was soon again in his arms as she aided him in putting in the ingredients. And for being almost 16 months old, she was quite the chef. The only problem occurred with an explosion of Bisquick, and a confused Alyssa looked up at her father with a white, powdery face. When her face had been cleaned off, they continued on their pancake making adventure as if nothing had interrupted it.  
  
And that's how you make the batter, Vaughn finished explaining, kissing his daughter on the top of her now unpowdery head. He knew there were a lot of pancake making adventures and kisses he had to make up for, but he also knew it wasn't too late to start. What's your favorite color? he asked, staring inquisitively into her green eyes. Alyssa, not understanding the question, reached for Vaughn's face and gave his nose a gentle squeeze. She fingered the bump along the bridge of his nose and traced the outline of his face. Her eyes closely followed her finger, which eventually paused just below his left eye. Green. Green pancakes it is.  
  
she added in a voice that sounded wise beyond her years.  
  
That's right, green panca.  
  
Alyssa helped him drop the green food dye into the pancakes without managing to get any coloring on herself or the counter. Vaughn mixed it into the batter, and proceeded to pour into into the pan for cooking.  
  
His daughter found it particularly amusing when he flipped the pancakes from the pan into the air. With each one, she would laugh hysterically and clap her hands. When they were ready to eat, Vaughn had just poured the syrup on each of their plates when the doorbell rang.  
  
_Oh, great_, Vaughn thought, _the movers are too early_. He sighed. Oh well, he would just have to eat cold pancakes.  
  
Licking his sticky fingers, he headed for the door. He wiped his hand on his pants and opened the door, quite surprised to not find the movers at the door.  
  
Well, I wasn't expecting to find _you_ here, the man outside the door said.  
  
I didn't expect you either, Corey.  
  
  
  
A/n: Hmmm, I still don't know about this one. It's okay, but I still don't like the beginning of it. **PLEASE REVIEW!** YOU KNOW HOW I **LOVE** REVIEWS! Anywho, there will either be one or two more chapters in this one before it's over. So I hope you enjoy the last couple of chapters I pull out. Thanks!  
~Whitelighter Enchantress


	10. Unrequited Love, Part II

Chapter 10: Unrequited Love, Part II  
  


A/n: Hey hey! Thanks for your reviews, I really appreciate them. So I'm thinking there will be one or two more chapters (I know- I've said that like three times now, but this time I mean it. I think). Note for Nattie700- I used to have this GIANT toy lion that sat on top of my shelf and it chased my bad dreams away. At least that's what my parents told me... Theme song: Easy Street from the musical Annie  
  
I must dedicate this to Kimmers for always reviewing! Thanks hun!  
  
Disclaimer: Props to JJ for making EVILauren. Mwahaha, gladly Alias is his.  
  
Quick Recap:  
  
Well, I wasn't expecting to find _you_ here, the man outside the door said.  
  
I didn't expect you either, Corey.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
He pushed Vaughn aside with his shoulder as he charged through the door. So what are _you_ doing here?  
  
I should ask you the same question, because, unlike you, I live here.  
  
Corey glared at Vaughn, then looked curiously around the apartment. Where's Alyssa? he asked casually.  
  
_What_ are you _doing_ here? he gritted through his teeth. Why had he asked about Alyssa? A sense of insecurity washed over him and he hurried into the kitchen, taking Alyssa from her highchair. Her face was a mess of syrup, so he took a brief moment to wash it off. He just had to keep her away from Corey.  
  
He leaned on the other side of the bar and chuckled at Vaughn. Don't worry, he assured, I'm not here to harm the kid. I just want to talk to Sydney.  
  
If Vaughn could have taken Sydney and held her away form Corey too, he would have. Well, she's not here.  
  
When will she be back?  
  
It's hard to say. But I wouldn't hang around waiting for her.  
  
He glared some more, then ran his hand through his greasy blonde hair. Listen, pal, I don't know who you think you are, moving in here with my girlfriend –  
  
Your girlfriend?  
  
That's right, you heard me. And while I suppose you have rights to your daughter, you don't have any right to keep Sydney away from me. Now, I'm going to sit down right over there until she gets back. Comprende, buster?  
  
Yeah, yeah I comprende' all right. He raised his eyebrow as Corey took a heavy plop into the couch in the living room. What on earth was this guy thinking? He couldn't just walk in and expect to talk with Sydney! Vaughn swallowed the many cruel words he wished to say to Corey and hugged Alyssa tighter to his body. So why are you here?  
  
I told you, I need to speak with Sydney.  
  
Why? What about? he snapped back.  
  
Corey let out a stifled laugh. None of your business.  
  
It's no secret that you want Sydney back, he told him, moving to set Alyssa in her play pen but standing in front as to protect her. Because I know the feeling, and I can see it in your eyes.  
  
You bet I want Sydney back, Corey snarled, standing up. But what would you know about losing Sydney, Mister I abandoned her for two tears as a single mother?'  
  
I did _not_ abandon her. I was taken from her, from Alyssa, from this whole God damn world, and if you think for one minute that I left Syd –  
  
Yeah, I do.  
  
Vaughn tried to calm his heavily rising breath rate. Get out. Get out of my house _now_.  
  
Not until I talk with Sydney.  
  
  
  
Corey slowly approached Vaughn, trying to stand as tall as he could. I'll get Sydney back, by any means necessary.  
  
What's that supposed to mean – he asked, just as Corey took a quick blow to Vaughn's stomach. I'm not going to fight you.  
  
Too late. Corey swung again, only this time, Vaughn was ready. He ducked, causing Corey to take a dry miss in the air, leaving him off balance. Vaughn took this opportunity to to grab his arms and hold them painfully behind his back.  
  
I asked you to leave, he hissed into his ear.  
  
And I said I wouldn't until I had Sydney, he replied, the faint smell of liquor on his breath. Now, do you know why she'll come back? Because she loves me now, not you. Corey, who apparently was much stronger than he appeared, released his body from Vaughn's death grip and began punching him as much as he could. A confused Vaughn could only defend himself, yet seemed to be beating Corey at his own game.  
  
The front door creaked open, but didn't stop Corey and Vaughn from their violent skirmish. Vaughn? I saw Corey's car and – Oh my gosh!  
  
Vaughn took a final swing and collided squarely with Corey's nose, surprised to hear Sydney's voice behind him. With Vaughn's head turned, Corey caught him strongly at his temple and both men fell to their knees.  
  
The next thing Vaughn knew, he was looking up at a worried-faced Sydney, who dabbed at his left eye. he whispered, fidgeting slightly.  
  
Sydney cooed. Stay still.  
  
He obeyed and stopped moving, however asked, What happened?  
  
She squinted for a moment just below his eye before applying a small bandage. He winced, feeling the pressure of her fingers on his bruise. I got back and you and Corey were fighting.  
  
Where is he?  
  
Sh, try not to talk to much, just let me explain. She gave him a weak smile before gently setting a pack of ice on his bruise. Do you need any painkillers? I'm sure your head hurts pretty bad. He shook his head, though it did hurt. But it didn't matter; he had felt worse before. she whispered, tucking her hair behind her ears. Vaughn stared up hopefully at her with his one good eye, realizing for the first time that his head lay on her lap. When I got inside you two had already beaten each other up pretty badly. You both had collapsed when I was coming in to break you apart. Luckily my dad got here in time to take Corey to the hospital; you probably broke his nose.  
  
Jack came?  
  
Yes, he was going to help us move Will. Anyway, Corey's face was pouring blood, and Dad took him away, and you were still out cold – (*_I blacked out again? Crap._*) – and you were cut under your eye. But I think we'll just escape needing stitches. She lifted the ice pack from his eye to check the bandage. It's not bleeding as badly as before, but it still soaked through this already.  
  
Absent-mindedly, he reached his hand to his face to feel the damage, immediately discovering more pain than he initially thought there would be. Wincing, he brought his hand back down and allowed Sydney to take care of him again. He didn't hurt you did he?  
  
Corey? No, of course not. He never has.  
  
He paused as she placed the ice pack back on his eye. He was drunk, he murmured.  
  
She sighed quietly. I know.  
  
Syd – Ouch! Oh, my face really hurts now, he cringed as his brow furrowed.   
  
Sydney quickly picked off the ice pack to inspect his cut. She leaned in closer, her lips mere inches from his, though neither of them noticed. Maybe we do need those stitches... she bit her lip. I can do it right here... SD-6 gave me some weird training. Let me just get the supplies. Carefully she slipped her body from underneath his head, and returned shortly with everything she needed. A bright light suddenly evaded his view as she adjusted everything. she mumbled about the light.   
  
She began to work on his cut, but he couldn't refrain from speaking. Where's Alyssa? Is she all right? he exploded, mentally beating himself for not thinking of her sooner.  
  
Stay still! She's fine, she's sitting in her playpen watching Sesame Street as we speak, she replied, casting a quick glance to her daughter. Corey wouldn't do anything to her.  
  
Even if he was drinking? he asked quietly.  
  
He knew she wouldn't reply. Vaughn, I have to admit, I haven't been completely honest with you about Corey. _Oh no_, he thought, _this is where she tells me she's still madly in love with him and how she and Alyssa are running off to live with him on a remote island. And how they're leaving me behind in Los Angeles alone. Great._ You had really died to us, I mean, we never expected to see you again. Everyone told me I had to move on. And I would hear people tell me to, but I wasn't truly listening to them. Not until I realized how absolutely miserable I was. Corey was the only way I figured I could move on. I don't remember any of my reasoning behind it except that I blamed you for everything. It had that much of an impact on me, so I forced myself into believing Corey was the right decision...  
  
I know for sure now that is wasn't, she finished. I'm not in love with Corey.  
  
It took great strength to hide the smirk from Vaughn's face. He wished he could see Corey just for this moment to laugh harshly in his face. HAHAHA! While in his head, he continued to laugh evilly, he couldn't respond to such a statement. He began to stare imploringly into Sydney's eyes as she worked on stitching his cut; the only thing to take his mind off the slight advancement in pain. For the next few minutes, they worked in silence (apart form the occasional Sesame Street lines in the background). Vaughn wished he could tell her how he felt, but couldn't bring himself to. He wanted her to know that he still loved her with all his heart, and he wasn't angry that she tried to push him away when he reappeared.  
  
The front door opened and the voice of Jack Bristow quickly followed. he called.  
  
We're in here, Dad, she replied. I'm just finishing up... There. She moved away the bright light and allowed his eyes to adjust before handing him the ice pack once again. Flashing him a smile and a gentle pat on the head, she stood up to greet her father. Vaughn wanted to follow suit, however found himself lost in a woozy daze as soon as he lifted his head. Slowly settling back into the couch, he sighed, and attempted to hear Jack and Sydney's conversation.  
  
I took care of it, Jack was saying. Corey won't be bothering you anymore.  
  
I hope you weren't _too_ harsh... she mumbled, and Vaughn could just imagine the emotionless gaze he returned to his daughter.  
  
an exasperated cry came from the play pen.  
  
Hold on, Sydney said, heading towards Alyssa, I think the little one's getting bored with Big Bird. She picked up the toddler whose tiny arms stretched up to her mother, and Vaughn carefully lifted his head onto the arm of the couch, ignoring the brief moment of his head spinning. Once the room was stable, he was shocked to see the sight in front of him. Jack was smiling. _Smiling_! Look who's here, Lyssie.  
  
The young girl squealed with delight and reached for her grandpa, who gladly accepted her. He laughed fully as she clambered about his shoulders and tugged on his ears. she exclaimed, her previous cries of boredom quickly forgotten.  
  
She never could say the grand' part, Jack added, still smiling broadly. Vaughn couldn't believe it; he had expected to find a stone-faced Jack nodding at the tiny creature of a human in his own spawn's arms. Yet no, Jack seemed his complete opposite when with Alyssa, it was like with her he could let his guard down, not worry about matters of the CIA and such, be free from his usual world of secrecy and lies and just be grandpa... Papa.  
  
Why don't you stay for lunch, Dad?  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Vaughn lay in his new bed that night, reflecting back on the day. Lunch had been slow, he remembered, considering how Jack's stares of sympathy seemed forgotten. Sydney had made them sandwiches, and Vaughn barely managed to sit up on the couch. He noticed Alyssa playing with her stuffed animals close to his feet, and Jack smiling at the child as he watched. When Sydney returned, Vaughn ate slowly and stayed out of the conversation, allowing his head time to readjust. Jack would stare at Vaughn every so often, and at first Vaughn thought it was because his head must be awkwardly swollen. Later, he realized Jack was back to his usual looks of resentment.   
  
His memories were interrupted by gentle whimpers from down the hall. Slowly, he stood from his bed, careful not to fall over (his head made him slightly woozy still). Instinctively he headed for Alyssa's room, but found his little angel sleeping soundly. He turned, and discovered that the sounds were coming from Sydney's room.   
  
He creaked the door open slightly, just enough to see through the crack. Sydney whimpered in her bed, rolling from side to side. As her thrashes became more violent, he opened the door more and more, stepping just inside the doorway with curiosity and confusion. Suddenly, she gave a yelp and awoke with a start. she panted heavily, immediately spying him in the doorway. Oh, Vaughn, it's you. She continued to pant heavily with a wavering breath. Her state showed no signs of improvement, and he made his way closer to her. The sight of her panting and shaking slightly scared him, so he flicked on the light on the bedside table and wrapped his arms around her body to calm her. Don't... leave, Vaughn, she whispered, closing her eyes.  
  
What was happening? Was she all right? He squeezed her shoulders tighter as he slid into the bed next to her. Slowly, her panting eased though she remained shivering. Though very confused, he would obey her and he stayed with her, holding her tight to his chest.  
  
Not that he objected, mind you. He was simply worried.  
  
Shortly after he closed his eyes and leaned against the wooden headboard, she began to mumble softly. Following me... she uttered. ... Scared...  
  
  
  
... Keep looking...  
  
He rubbed his thumb back and forth across her arm and she didn't say another word; she snuggled deeper into his chest. Her breathing seemed slow and steady, her sleepy mumbles had ceased, and her shivering had stopped, so Vaughn eventually dozed off.  
  
It wasn't until the morning when he woke again. With Vaughn holding her, she didn't seem to have any further trouble sleeping. He glanced over at the alarm clock to his left, 7:34, then to the table on his right where two pictures resided; one of Will, Francie, and Danny, and the other of Sydney and himself. In _his_ picture frame.  
  
He smiled gleefully then allowed his eyes to rest on the sleeping form of Sydney in front of him. He felt her easy breaths rise and fall against his side and the weight of her head against his chest; her hair flowed softly over the side of her head, its tips resting on his stomach. After stroking it for a moment, he planted a kiss on the top of her head and slid out from underneath her, making sure he hadn't woken her before exiting. He hated leaving her; sleeping so soundly and peacefully, she looked like an angel.  
  
But would she remember what had happened to her last night? Would she recall asking Vaughn to stay? He didn't want to risk it. He didn't want her to wake up and find herself clinging to someone who just moved in... Or did he?  
  
It was too late to go back, anyhow, as he found himself in the kitchen. He started up the coffee and headed for the couch, grabbing a fleece blanket to wrap himself in. Before turning on the television, he inspected his reflection in its screen; the swelling had gone done tremendously over night, and his stitches were just a mild affliction to his face. A large, purple bruise began to settle around his eye, resting against his nose and further down, along the top of his cheek bone. He fingered it's outskirts as he turned the television on, careful to turn down the volume as to not wake Sydney or Alyssa.  
  
Nothing terribly exciting was on – a few cartoons, reruns of older shows, newly released rap videos – but the TV could hardly occupy Vaughn from his thoughts. He couldn't help but think about how Sydney had taken care of him yesterday.  
  
_Luckily my dad got here in time to take Corey to the hospital,_ she had told him. Did that mean it was lucky that Corey would be all right or thank God she could get rid of him? He hoped it was the latter. But then Vaughn remembered Jack's whisper words to Sydney: _Corey won't be bothering you anymore. _Vaughn decided to take this as a good sign...  
  
Oh, you're already up, a soft voice said from behind him.  
  
he replied, I hope the TV didn't wake you.  
  
She shook her head, then stretched her arms up in a yawn. Anything good on?  
  
Let's just say Sunday morning television hasn't changed in the past two years. She smiled as she headed into the kitchen, pouring each of them a cup of coffee. She returned with two steaming mugs and handed one to Vaughn, settling opposite him on the couch. He wondered if she remembered what happened last night... I heard you talking in your sleep last night, he started, hoping to eventually lead into further discussion.  
  
she blushed, I didn't tell Francie to frost any pies, did I?  
  
He laughed. No, no. But you said something about following me' and scared' and keep looking.' Must have been having a crazy dream.  
  
She shrugged, almost turning against the light atmosphere of the conversation. I don't remember.  
  
Vaughn sighed. He had hoped she would remember he spent the night with her; he had hoped she would want him to keep holding her, even through the day; he had hoped they had been rekindled somewhat...  
  
It was true, however, that their relationship had improved over the five weeks he had been back, and her friendship meant a great deal to him at this time. And if friendship was all he could get right now, then he hoped he could build from that. It was, after all, a decent place to start.  
  
  
  
A/n: Okay, there it is: my Part II. I really hope you liked it! And I realized something just a moment ago – you know how I said one or two more chapters? – I really really believe that I will have one more chapter then an epilogue. Well anyway we'll deal with that when we get there.   
  
Hey! I updated really fast! Well it's fast for me! So be proud! And **REVIEW**! Because reviews make the world go round (No they don't! Shut-up, Corey!).  
~Whitelighter Enchantress


	11. Lost Angels

Chapter 11: Lost Angels   
  


A/n: Hey! Thanks so much for your reviews, they really make my day! This is the **last chapter** of this story, and **then** I will have an **epilogue** so don't forget about me please. I hope everyone had a good Valentine's Day... I sure did when my special someone wished me a happy one ;) Theme Songs: Someday by Nickelback and Concrete Angel by Martina McBride  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Alias nor do I own Scrabble. Someone please tell me when Vaughn's for sale, I'll buy him in a millisecond.  
  


* * *

  
  
Comforting Sydney became a nightly routine for Vaughn. He wished at so many times that he could tell her how he comforted her at night, but he never could bring himself to say it. But still, each night when he heard her whimpers, he would sneak into her room, wrap his arms around her, and soothe her back to an easy sleep. Occasionally, he would also slip into Alyssa's room to sing her the French lullaby.  
  
His face had begun to heal nicely; the swelling had gone down quickly and the bruise barely seemed more than a shadow on his face. His stitches were but a mere red scratch underneath his eye. And from some reliable sources, he heard that Corey's nose was broken rather badly (::snickers::).  
  
That particular morning, Vaughn had just left Sydney's room to get dressed when he heard the faint roll of thunder. Sighing, he moved to look out the window and peered through the blinds, only to find gray skies above him and a light drizzle forming. The weather would only get worse, he was sure.  
  
After a quick shave in the bathroom (A/n: pause for a moment and stare at our dear Vaughn in his tight, white shirt and boxers. Mmmmm-hmmmmm...), he headed into the kitchen to start the coffee. Out the front window, the rain poured down in heavy sheets, soaking everything in sight, and it made Vaughn glad that he was inside where it was warm and safe from the storm. Lightning cracked, and the thunder soon followed it. He heard the creak of Sydney's bedroom door opening when the light – and all other electrical appliances – suddenly shut off, leaving them in a world of darkness.  
  
He barely saw her figure in the hall when he turned around; buried in the shadows so softly, and protected by their seclusion. he uttered. Looks like the power's out.  
  
She yawned, stretching her arms up into the air and letting her muscles freeze her for a moment; she was still beautiful. A booming thunder echoed, reverberating through the walls of the house, causing Sydney to stumble forward a bit. The grumbling whines of a young girl began to call from down the hall, and Sydney turned to hush them. She quickly returned with a still tearing Alyssa rocking in her arms. Sh, I know you don't like thunder, baby, she whispered, kissing her daughter's head.  
  
While Sydney searched around the house for some candles and flashlights, Vaughn found the old battery powered radio and found any station he would that would report the weather conditions. The best one he could find came in fuzzy at times, but seemed very informative.  
  
Thunderstorm warning for the Los Angeles area, the radio anchor said in her newscaster voice. She went on to describe the inches they already accumulated and how long the storm was supposed to last (which told them at _least_ another three hours). She then turned the microphone over to who was reporting the number of car crashes on the freeways.  
  
Syd, I think we should call in sick, Vaughn said, raising his eyebrows as Alyssa bounded towards Vaughn's leg while carrying a tiny flashlight. He swung her up onto his lap. The roads are awful.  
  
I agree, she replied immediately without hesitation. I'm on it. She turned into the kitchen and grabbed the phone. Vaughn heard her voice over his shoulder as he bounced Alyssa on his knee and made funny sound effects. He was delighted as a small giggle escaped from her throat instead of the slight crying from the storm. But when the thunder sounded again, she squealed and wriggled in his arms. Okay, we're all set, Sydney smiled, taking a seat next to Vaughn and resting her head in her hands. What should we do today?  
  
Oh, I don't know, Vaughn mused, attempting to calm Alyssa again.  
  
she shouted.  
  
Sydney looked confused; her daughter didn't speak much gibberish anymore. She wants pancakes, Vaughn explained, remembering back to when Corey had come over. Sorry, little angel, no electricity. Alyssa shifted her body to stand on her father's lap, lifting her hands to balance on his shoulders. Vaughn shot his arm out and grabbed quickly for her stomach, swinging her around and tickling her stomach like mad. The girl erupted in a fit of laughter, ignoring the thunder that roared in the distance.  
  
Hey, look, Sydney said as Vaughn's tickling ceased. It's Scrabble, I haven't played this game in forever... Want to play?  
  
He kissed Alyssa's head and set her into her playpen with many of her toys. He almost forgot about the power outage and turned on the TV, but stopped his hand midway. Alyssa seemed content with her little flashlight and stuffed animals, anyway, with her soft brown curls bouncing out of the pony tail atop her head.  
  
He returned to the table where Sydney had lit a few candles around them and had the board set up between the chairs. They each picked their letters. As Vaughn set them into the wooden holder, he decided on a game plan. He hoped he could make all of his words be hints to Sydney, words such as love' or boyfriend' though the latter was a far shot. He took a moment to look at his letters. F-E-Q-N-B-A-T. _Oh boy_, he thought as Sydney laid down her first word, witch,' _this is going to be an interesting game..._  
  
Is feqnbat a word?  
  


* * *

  
  
It had, in fact, been an interesting game. Jeez, Vaughn, I could have let you have feqnbat and you still would have lost by a hundred, Sydney conveniently pointed out.  
  
Only a hundred?  
  
Well, give or take a few points. She smiled warmly at him before leaning over to blow out a dying candle. I think Alyssa finally fell back asleep, she pointed.  
  
He craned his neck around to find his little angel sleeping soundly with her arms wrapped around her lion stuffed animal. Doesn't sound like a bad idea, he replied, catching his arms in a yawn. He stared at his daughter's sleeping form for another moment longer, studying her inhaling and exhaling motions, watching how her body sighed effortlessly in its daze. He sighed contentedly to himself and turned back to Sydney who was staring at him. When they're eyes met it was like an electrical shock woke them up.  
  
Yeah, so, Sydney said abruptly, averting her eyes away quickly, to Vaughn's dismay, the rain hasn't let up any. Maybe we should hear what the radio has to say again.  
  
He stared at her body by the ill lit window for a moment. The gray clouds in the sky above omitted much light from coming through, though remnants of the sun glimmering past them could be seen reflecting in her eyes. The remaining candles' light illuminated her every curve in its faint glow. he finally whispered, scratching his head. She pushed aside the candle she had blown out, and set a new one in its place. It was red and worn, but the smell of cinnamon that it evanesced proved it to be strong and sturdy. Sydney had difficulty lighting the match before the candle would light.  
  
Suddenly, the phone rang, and Sydney moved from the window to answer it. Hello? Oh, hi, Will, I – ... Sorry, that didn't cross my mind. We called in sick today. I'm sorry we didn't call you. Light chuckle. Okay, bye. Sydney casually slid back into her chair next to Vaughn – perhaps a little closer, even – and blushed. I forgot to call Will and tell him that Alyssa wasn't coming over. We thought we had been in a car accident.  
  
  
  
The stirs of Alyssa could be heard from her play pen in the other room, and Vaughn initially lifted himself from his chair. You don't need to go yet, Sydney stopped him. She might fall back asleep, and if not she'll just call mama.  
  
He nodded and edged back down with a swirling feeling rushing throughout. He loved learning things about Alyssa; there was something new everyday. And he absorbed everything he could because it was never enough. He noticed how her whimpers had ceased, but then he heard them start up again. Looking at Sydney, she held her finger up to wait.   
  
  
  
Vaughn froze. Sydney's eyes widened as she tried to restrain a smile. She brought her hand back down, crossed her arms, and raised her eyebrows. Vaughn and Sydney's eyes met for a moment, a moment that gave him the strength to get out of his chair. He walked over to his daughter who sat in a sleepy daze, her arms wrapped tightly around her lion.  
  
At first he wasn't sure what to do, but only for a brief minute. As soon as Alyssa saw him, she raised her arms up into the air. she mumbled, music to his ears.  
  
A tear came to Vaughn's eye and he lifted his daughter in his arms. Bonjour, mon petite ange, he whispered and held her close. He rocked her in his arms and turned in a slow circle, singing her the French lullaby in their dance. He opened his eyes and saw Sydney leaning against the couch. His tears spilled softly over cheeks, he finally realized, and he stroked Alyssa's hair and kissed her cheek; she had fallen asleep again. I'm really a father now, Syd, he said, believing it for the first time. He sniffed and wiped his tears with his free hand, gently swaying his way closer to Sydney.  
  
When it hits you, it really hits hard, Sydney whispered back, and Vaughn nodded, closing his eyes and holding Alyssa closer to him. Now he would never let her go again; she would never escape his protection, never befriend anyone without running a background check first, no dating until she was thirty, no venturing farther than across the street... I remember when I first realized that I really a mother. You'd think it hits when you hold her for the first time, but that's not when. It's when you come home from work at the end of a horrible day – you look and feel awful – and she shouts mama and runs to give you a hug. And that's when you know. It still feels like a miracle every time I hear her say mama.  
  
Or dada, he smiled, opening his eyes to meet her warm ones.  
  
Or dada.  
  
Vaughn realized how close they really were at this point. If he leaned in just a little, he could touch her lips with his and lose her body in a kiss. He restrained his neck from leaning in as it naturally wanted to do. Their eyes were still locked; one gaze; one soul. Sydney's head was becoming closer and closer, and suddenly she leaned in, kissing Alyssa's head and resting her cheek against her daughter's soft hair. It was Vaughn's first instinct to bring his arm up and wrap it around Sydney's body, and before anyone could realize what was happening, they found themselves in a family hug. No one stopped it, but rather consumed it, lost in the rhythm and swirling love; concealed by the warmth of the darkness.  
  
And Vaughn knew that this was what he wanted forever.  
  


* * *

  
  
I heard the ice rink is having a free skate this afternoon, Vaughn admitted at lunch the next day. It was both his and Sydney's day off.  
  
We should go, she smiled back. I bet Alyssa would love it.  
  
Vaughn had hoped she would. How long had it been since he last skated? Technically more than two years, which was way too long. He needed to feel the cold brush of air sting his cheeks as he races full speed towards the goal; the adrenaline rushing through his body as he aims for a shot; the excitement and thrill of scoring once the puck hits the back of the net...  
  
They seemed to finish lunch quickly, all eager to get to the rink. The rink was relatively empty when they arrived, but they still hurried to get their skates. Vaughn was the first on the ice, and Sydney held Alyssa just outside while they watched him take a warmup lap. He let his strides advance in at a rapid rate; he whipped his body around to move backwards. The more he moved, the more at home he felt on the ice. Finally, he stopped at the opening by where Sydney and Alyssa were standing.  
  
Are you sure Sloane didn't keep you hostage on an ice rink? Sydney asked. You're looking like you've done this everyday for your whole life.  
  
Vaughn shrugged. One of those things that never leaves you... you know? Now, how about we start this love in my little one? Sydney took her cue and stood Alyssa carefully on the ice, but held her hands up above her head. She gently pushed her forward, gliding her along the ice. That's it, Vaughn smiled. She's a natural.  
  
Just like her daddy.  
  
Sydney released hold of one of Alyssa's hands, and Vaughn took hold of his daughter's free hand. Both Sydney and Vaughn skated slightly hunch over so Alyssa could be slowly pulled between them. Well, I don't know about you, but my little angel is definitely going to the Olympics one day, captain of the hockey team.  
  
Sydney laughed. But of course. Gold medal, star forward.  
  
And don't you forget it! He looked up and locked eye contact with Sydney. Suddenly all the noise around him meshed to nothing and time stood still. She let him penetrate his gaze through her – into her – and he was slowly invited closer and closer until –  
  
Attention all skaters, would you please leave the ice for the zamboni. Thank you.  
  
Sydney blinked her eyes away. Ooh, zamboni time! she finally exclaimed once air had returned to her lungs. Let's watch the zamboni, Alyssa. They quickly skated over to the side and watched the large machine clean the ice. But Vaughn wasn't watching the zamboni, he was watching Sydney and wondering what could have just happened.  
  
Alyssa startled him, pointing to the ice when people had started to return to it.  
  
I knew she'd love it, Vaughn grinned at Sydney as he brought his daughter back out to a place where he knew she loved just as much as he did.  
  
The three spent the remainder of the day together. It was almost sad when they had to go home, except for the reminder that they were going home together. Alyssa fell asleep on the car ride home, content with her dinner of junk that none of them really should have eaten. Vaughn carried his sleeping beauty to her bedroom, humming the French lullaby as he lay her into her crib. To his pleasure, Sydney's body appeared next to him. Good night, Lyssie, Sydney whispered, bending down to kiss her daughter goodnight. Vaughn did the same. They walked out the door slowly, pausing to smile at each other, then parted their separate ways to their rooms. But Vaughn knew that he would be going to Sydney's room shortly, to comfort and suppress her bad dream.  
  
And he was right.  
  
Before he knew it he had crawled into bed next to Sydney and wrapped his arms around her torso, hugging her tight to his body. That night was particularly warm, and Sydney's windows were opened to their screens. He felt a cool wind blow by as he settled into the bed, and watched the moonlight fall in soft beams. They draped gracefully across the woman he loved more than anything, causing her skin to shimmer in its basking light. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful creature Vaughn had ever laid eyes on.  
  
Right on cue, her breathing rate increased and her pulse soared. Vaughn held her closer and stroked her head. she shouted in a hoarse whisper. Please, no! Her breathing built and built until she shot straight up in a scream. she blurted between pants. I... I found...  
  
Vaughn's voice wavered. She had woken up... What was he supposed to do now? Found what, Sydney? Next he felt her body stutter in tears, and he pulled her back to him as she cried.  
  
he managed to cipher from her crying. But he hushed her, trying to ease her back to sleep. After a while, she gave a few sniffles, but her breathing had steadied. Now that she was sleeping like an angel, he kissed the top of her head, and lay her head gingerly against the pillow by his arm. As he began to slide out, he heard a groan. Don't leave, Vaughn, please don't leave. Her request was simple, yet it shocked Vaughn in many ways. It sent shivers down his spine to know she knew he had kissed her head. She knew he had been in his bed. _But she wanted him to stay.  
_  
He obeyed, and eased back under the covers. With a few shaky breaths, Sydney sat up against the headboard, and wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead. She wrapped her comforter around her bare arms, obviously chilled despite the warm spring air. I've been having this dream for the longest time now, she told him, adjusting her tank top strap. They've all been slightly different, but every night I've been looking, searching for something. I never knew what I was looking for, or where it was, but I just knew I'd know it when I saw it.  
  
In each dream I'd see the back of someone, just their feet rounding a corner or the tip of their coat going through a door, but I always followed this person, like I knew they were supposed to lead me to what I'm looking for. But each time I got close enough to ask them something happens and I'm hurt, or being chased away, or... anything to get me away from that person. That man. Sometimes I knew something bad was going to happen when I followed him, though. Yet I followed him every time.  
  
While I looked for what I needed to find, it started to take me over, became my obsession and was my every thought. I needed to find this. I would die if I didn't. Which was why I was so desperate to follow this man. But – but sometimes Corey or Sloane would be in my way to hurt me. Or things would haunt me... things from when I was tortured.  
  
But lately I've been able to get closer and closer to the man, and tonight, everything was fighting me – Sloane, Corey, my past – all of them tried to force me away from him. But I fought them with all my might, and I made it to the man. And I grabbed hold of his shoulder and turned him around so I could see him. He looked like an angel, dressed in a white robe. And he had this great light about him, brighter than anything; brighter than the sun, even. But once I saw him, I knew he was what I was looking for. And I had found him.  
  
She paused a moment and took a few heavy breaths. That man was you, she whispered, her chocolate eyes filled again as pools of tears. I found _you_. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, then brought her hand to his face. He stiffened at her touch, but her cold fingers warmed quickly and he relaxed. But... but you've been here all... all along. Tears spilled out at last, and soon her body followed. She collapsed onto Vaughn's shoulder, and he held her with all he could, vowing to never let her go.  
  
Opening her eyes, she sniffled and stared up at Vaughn. Her lips trembled slightly, but boldly made their way forward to the first touch. They melted together as their lips crashed into one another, not too hard but not too softly, just perfect. His hands supported her back and neck, gently massaging where her hair started.  
  
Too soon, she pulled away for air but kept her head close to his, never breaking eye contact. How could I lose my guardian angel? she asked, a last tear escaping down her cheek.  
  
You didn't, he replied, wiping the tear with the pad of his thumb. He's right here and he's never going away again. He hesitated, but her eyes pleaded that he continue to reassure her. I love you.  
  
There, it was said, and nothing could be done about it. He felt free finally to not hold it in any longer. She knew, the world knew, and all that was left was her reply. Something suddenly changed in the way she looked at him. There was no longer the confusion, no longer the worry, or the fear, but it had been replaced with something Vaughn hadn't seen since his return.  
  
It was love.  
  
I love you too, Vaughn.  
  
The most incredible feeling washed over their bodies and he leaned forward for another kiss. This one was deeper, with more heart, soul, and emotion than any of their kisses before. It lasted for an indefinite time, but time didn't matter. They were in each other's arms, under the strongest spell of love, and they would remain that way until the end of time.  
  
At different points, both had been asked what they wanted, which was simply to find what they had lost; their angels...  
  
~Fin~  
  
A/n: AH! I can't believe it's over, I'm seriously about to cry. I have to thank you all so much for being so supportive and loyal readers. I love you guys so much! So please, **REVIEW**, and don't forget to stay tuned for the epilogue (it should be along shortly).  
  
And by the way, feqnbat is _so_ a word. But will Christine and Ben let you use it when that's all you have? _Noooooooo_. Stupid Scrabble. Who needs words anyway? Oh, right...   
~Whitelighter Enchantress


	12. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  


A/n: Thanks for your reviews! Now that this is the absolute last chapter of this story, I will take to opportunity to give a special thanks to all of you who have reviewed me:  
Kimmers, Madam Rage, Rai, Agent alana, Liz, megan, wahine, Aliasscape, Christina13, jen, Tine, sauceynana, Glittering Pegasus, nbs, shelly, alpineracer88, Kira, Fran, Raina Elizibeth, Dana, Abby, MVP Girls, Valoriahn, Nickell, Nicole, SydVaughn1001, Kelly9, Twinnie, christy0237, supergirl14, JoAnn13, kitty, amirah-hartley, Motorala, Selphie, spinach, Opapea, landi104, caroline, Sue, goofy, jerseyhartnett, Emily Carol, sum1special, abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz, anyaherrera, Mini Nicka, Jacey925, Nikki, tori, FireAnjel, Egyptian Kat, Brokenenchantress, molly, Vicky, nattie700, alejandra, mallory, Serendipity9, Montypython, neptunestar, ME  
  
nattie700- I doubt there will be a *clap clap clap* Sequel! but if I do write one it won't be for a while – I've got two fics in the works which I should start posting soon. Theme song: You and I Both by Jason Mraz  
  
Disclaimer: Even after all these chapters, I still don't own Alias.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Daddy, tell me a story, the little girl said as she nuzzled into her pillow, staring up at her father with large, green eyes. One about Uncle Will and Aunt Francie, please?  
  
Not tonight, little angel, he replied. You need to get to sleep. We _all_ need to get to sleep... It's been a big day.  
  
She pouted, as only a five year old would. Please? I'm not very sleepy. Her argument was lost, however, when she proceeded with a large yawn.  
  
Vaughn sat down onto her bed with a furrowed brow. Is something wrong?  
  
The little girl looked nervously around her bedroom, from the light shade of pink on the walls, to her great chest of toys, to her bookshelf, to her closet, and back to her father. She leaned in closer , reverting her eyes back to the closet. It hasn't been checked for monsters, she whispered very covertly.  
  
he replied, playing along, then I better go look then, shouldn't I? I can't let any of them kidnap my Alyssa in the middle of the night. He stood up and cautiously approached the closet door. He crept his hand to the handle, and suddenly jerked it open and jumped into a karate position. Nope, it's all clean.  
  
No monsters?  
  
No monsters.   
  
She looked skeptically back to the closet before sighing into her pillow. Can I sleep with you and Mommy?  
  
Don't you want to sleep the first night in our brand new house in your own new bedroom? he asked, rather shocked that she had asked that question. The only times she crawled into bed with them were during thunder storms. What's the matter, angel?  
  
This room's really big and scary and... Will I have to share it when the new baby comes?  
  
Vaughn almost laughed out loud. He knew his discussion with Alyssa about the new baby would come soon, as the new baby would. A son; his son; his child to raise from birth and be there for all the firsts. It wasn't like there weren't any firsts with Alyssa, because there were still many, but he wanted to be there from the beginning, with all the screaming and the pain and the cutting of the cord business. And he was truly excited. Of course not. Remember that room you helped Daddy and Uncle Eric paint this morning? That blue room? She nodded. That's going to be his room.  
  
She seemed indifferent to his answer. Will I have to share my lion then?  
  
No, he'll have his own stuffed animals. _For the most part..._  
  
she replied with relief, cause I don't wanna share him. What's the new baby's name gonna be?  
  
Mommy and I are still thinking. Maybe Evan William.  
  
Evan William Vaughn, she recited immediately. You know what I think we should name him? Bubble gum! Or licorice!  
  
You want to name your brother bubble gum? he chuckled, full grin. He shook his head. Okay, really, it's time for bed. He watched her close her eyes but he could tell she wasn't in the sleeping mood. He was sure that she was already homesick for Sydney's old apartment; they had lived there too long. Vaughn had wanted to move out after he and Sydney married nearly four years ago, but Sydney couldn't bear to part with it.  
  
He began to sing a French lullaby, something he sang to her every once in a while now, but she fell asleep every time. Within minutes, her breathing had steadied and she was sound asleep, sleeping like an angel. He bent over and kissed her soft, light brown hair. Good night, Alyssa, he whispered. I love you.  
  
After staring at her for a while, he switched off her light and headed into the hallway, crossing over the small pile of stuffed animals that had already accumulated there. Once he reached his bedroom, he gently pushed the door closed behind him. Sydney was already in bed, but he couldn't tell if she was sleeping yet. he asked, taking off his shirt.  
  
  
  
He slid into bed next to her, feeling the warmth of the comforter wash over him. Just wondering if you were awake. You know our daughter wants to name our son bubble gum.  
  
Does she now? Sydney chuckled, rolling over on her other side to face Vaughn in the bed. Her protruding stomach could almost reach him, yet she was so far away. A month ago she wanted to name him jelly bean.  
  
They smiled at each other. Even at seven months pregnant, Sydney was gorgeous. Vaughn loved waking up to her each morning. He thought he would die if he never saw her face again.  
  
Sydney had resigned from the CIA shortly after their marriage. Their big day actually took place the summer after Sydney and Vaughn's relationship had returned to normal. Sydney, who resigned from the CIA around the date of the wedding, had found work as a literature professor at UCLA and was currently on maternity leave. She loved being home with Alyssa, however, and was thinking about staying home longer after the baby was born.  
  
I'm going shopping tomorrow, Sydney mumbled, closing her eyes and trying to get comfortable on her back. If there's anything you need leave me a note before you go to work.  
  
All right, he replied, leaning in to nuzzle her cheek as he settled into bed himself. He felt her breathing against his skin, and he knew she had fallen asleep quickly. Stroking her silky hair, he began to think about how their lives would be different with the arrival of the new baby. There would be a lot less sleeping, a lot more noise, but much more love in the atmosphere than usual, which seemed unimaginable at the time.   
  
Mostly, Vaughn would be there this time. He had been with Sydney through her entire seven months of pregnancy so far, and planned to be with her for the remainder of them. He would stand beside her in the delivery room while she squeezed his hand into oblivion while cursing him for ever letting him touch her. He would wrap his arms around Sydney shoulder as she held their child for the first time, kissing her face and whispering sentiments into her ear. He would hold his newborn baby as a true newborn, nurture him and watch him grow. He would watch Alyssa's emerald eyes twinkle with joy as she met her brother for the first time. He would watch his son take his first steps and speak his first word.  
  
Vaughn often wondered what his son would look like. Would he look like a gentle mix of both Sydney and Vaughn like Alyssa was, or would he be more like one parent over the other? Would his genes reflect those of his grandparents? He didn't care. As long as his son was loving and kind, it didn't matter.  
  
Well, and as long as he played hockey with his ol' man.  
  
And read books to his mother, as Alyssa often did to Sydney.  
  
But while he dreamt of the changes that would take place in the future, he couldn't help but reminisce in the past. While his relationship with Sydney was stronger than ever, he knew there were certain things he would never know about her. She never spoke of the time when she was tortured, and he never pried her about it. It seemed, between them, an unspoken rule that was never to be discussed. They hardly spoke of Danny, SD-6, or the time during which Vaughn was absent unless it was an Alyssa story. This seemed the only protocol they didn't desire to break.  
  
But on a happier note, Vaughn's relationship with Alyssa had only grown over the years. There had been many more Dada moments as well as trips to the ice rink, and he found himself smiling in happy memories of that morning they shared together when they made pancakes (before Corey's arrival). Alyssa Michaela was the pride and joy of Vaughn's life and he bragged about her at every chance possible. She was currently the best little skater in her ice skating class – not to mention the youngest even if only by a few months – and she was excelling in kindergarten.  
  
Alyssa's favorite thing about school was reading by far. Sydney had already taught her the alphabet and to read long before she enrolled in school, and therefore she currently read the big kid books, which to her were the first or second grade books. With Sydney being home more often, Alyssa could read more and advanced herself quickly.  
  
Vaughn rather missed working with Sydney. Even though he despised a life of secrecy, there was something about the Joey's Pizza calls and their late night rendezvous that he missed. Now that Sydney was gone, there was no to stare at or watch; no one to pull aside into an empty room, pull out a bug killer pen, and kiss meaningfully; no one to send I love yous to in morse code by blinking.  
  
The sudden thought that he was out of shaving cream popped into his head, and he reminded himself to leave a note for Sydney in the morning. But thinking about staring at Sydney while at work and a note made him remember...  
  
Hey, Syd? he whispered, forgetting she was asleep.  
  
  
  
You remember before we got married, and you still worked at the CIA, that one day when Dixon came up to you with this note? You didn't read it for a while, and you even threw it away once... But I was just wondering, who was it from?  
  
Sydney slowly rotated, as only a pregnant woman gracefully could. She sighed before she spoke, barely above a whisper. It was from my mother... They found it in the debris at the house in Peru. She... knows about Alyssa. She's seen her.  
  
With the tone she had used, it was obvious she didn't want to go into the subject, but Vaughn pushed. What!? Why didn't you tell me sooner?  
  
There's nothing to worry about. We haven't heard anything from Irina in years, and she'd never hurt Alyssa regardless of the horrid person she is. It was apparent that Sydney had thought about this over the years, but Vaughn was oblivious to that fact. There's nothing to worry about.  
  
Syd, what if she's here, watching us right now?  
  
Do you really think she would be in Los Angeles at this point in time? At a house under serious government security?  
  
She had lifted her back up to rest on her forearms, and Vaughn could tell she was frustrated for being disrupted from her pleasant dreams. He took notice of the slight anger bubbling in her eye, and he quickly apologized for waking her, said she was right, and told her to go back to sleep. She was right, of course, Irina would be crazy to go to Los Angeles. She was probably hiding out in some cave in Asia, for all Vaughn knew. He didn't care. All that mattered was that his family was safe and protected, and would stay that way forever.  
  
Thunder cracked and shook the walls, stammering the picture frames in the hallway. The tapping of little feet could be heard, and soon their bedroom door creaked open, the light brown waves of hair stuck through the crack. Mommy? Daddy? Vaughn could hear the clashing of Donovan's collar behind her. Lightning sliced through the sky, and the young girl jumped and hurried to her parent's bed. Scurrying under the covers, she clung to Vaughn's arm instinctively and squeezed her eyes shut. Sydney turned slightly towards the new warmth and snuggled her stomach closer to Alyssa. The five-year-old set her unclung hand atop the bulge beside her, and found comfort in the pressure of her baby brother's heartbeat.  
  
Vaughn kissed Alyssa on the top of her head and whispered another good night. She would fall back asleep quickly, he knew, and then he would transfer her back to her own bed. But it was those nights when she was asleep, in between him and Sydney, that he loved the most. His two little angels, both sound asleep, dripping with innocence and dreaming of optimism in a world full of darkness and evil. But they made him see that all was not evil; that there was still good no matter how dark things became. Their sleeping forms were his comfort from the storm, and he knew that his life was perfect whenever he looked at them. And that was all he needed to know for the rest of his life.  
  
  
  
A/n: Th-th-th-that's all folks! I really hoped you enjoyed reading this fic because I truly enjoyed writing it. You've all been so great and I can only thank you so much. So please, I ask you one last time to leave a last **review** for me to cherish. And look out for my other fics which should be making their appearances shortly- _The Return to the Island_ (the sequel to _Mission Rescue_) and _An Irish Prayer_ (an AU thing). Thanks for being such great fans!  
~Whitelighter Enchantress


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